


A Tale of Two (NHL) Cities (Dallas Edition) with special cameo appearance by Washington, D.C.

by Tex



Series: Tale of Two (NHL) Cities [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dallas Stars, Denial, Friends With Benefits, Hockey, M/M, Pittsburgh Penguins, So much denial, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tex/pseuds/Tex
Summary: The Dallas Stars are having a difficult season. But Jamie has his teammates. Most specifically, he has Tyler. He and Tyler are friends. With benefits. Until Jamie decides he wants more.Subtitle: When Jamie Met Geno





	1. Chapter 1

 

_Dallas,_

 _March 2015_

Jamie’s head drops back against the headrest when Tyler lowers his head and his lips close around his dick. He puts his hand on Tyler’s head when he starts to suck _hard_ and he lifts his hips a little to get in deeper, get more of that amazing feeling that Tyler is so expert at doling out.

“Tyler,” Jamie pants, taking a quick glance in the passenger side mirror to make sure the coast is clear. “Why — this is fucking crazy — ” 

Tyler pulls off with a noisy and totally obscene slurp and he looks up at Jamie with impatience, his pupils blown. “You want me to stop?” he asks, his lips wet and red and his hand still gripping Jamie’s dick tight. Jamie makes another noise and just pushes Tyler’s head down again and he’s once again engulfed in Tyler’s wide, hot, perfect mouth.

The only sounds in the Jeep are the wet slide of skin on skin and the groans that Jamie is trying and pretty much failing to keep in his throat. It’s not just that Tyler is so fucking good at sucking dick, although that’s reason enough. 

They’re in Jamie’s driveway with his nearest neighbor only one line of yaupon shrubs away and Jordie and Daddy are already inside. They could get caught while Tyler works away on Jamie’s cock, twisting his wrist a little on every upstroke, tonguing the slit in the swollen head until Jamie’s fingers tighten in Tyler’s soft hair.

The first time he got a blow job in a car was also Jamie’s first time _ever_. It was his first year in Juniors, at a tourney in Halifax and it had been the most mind-blowing experience of his 16 year old life. So maybe some of that memory is seeping into his brain. Then again, maybe it’s just that it’s Tyler. 

He goes down a little deeper each time, edging Jamie closer, until the head of Jamie’s dick hits the sweet tightness in the back of Tyler’s throat and that’s all it takes. He’s coming hard and Tyler makes a noise then and the vibration against his dick makes Jamie go off even harder.

When he’s done, Tyler sits back in the driver’s seat and, even though Jamie’s still pretty woozy, he hurriedly tries to pull himself together — getting his dick back in his pants and willing his heartbeat down to a relatively normal level. But there’s not much he can do about that last thing. Because he knows Tyler’s waiting for him to complete the circuit.

Jamie looks over at him. There’ s just enough light left in the sky that he can tell Tyler’s chest is moving up and down pretty fast and he’s licking his lips in a way that makes Jamie wish like hell he hadn’t just come. 

Tyler’s cupping the hard on tenting his shorts. He’s so fucking gorgeous. Jamie sometimes skirts the edge of control around Tyler. Sometimes, he thinks about grabbing Tyler’s shirt and ripping it down the middle and taking him savagely like the hero in the romance novels his mom used to read. He thinks about it but Jamie would never do it. It would probably be some fucking $300 tee shirt and Tyler would be pissed.

Jamie’s usually drunk when he thinks about doing that.

“Well?” Tyler says, his voice a little raspy, his gaze a little unfocused. “Are you gonna sit this one out?”

It’s Jamie’s turn to lean over the console. “Have I ever before?” he asks. He hopes Tyler doesn’t notice that his hands are a little shaky, but Jamie can’t risk looking at Tyler any longer. He stretches closer with his left arm firm against Tyler’s flat belly and he thinks he can feel Tyler’s heart pound but that might be his imagination. He’s never all that clear headed when he’s this close to Tyler.

Jamie’s hair is relatively un-gelled after his post-practice shower. It’s falling into his eyes as he eases Tyler’s cock free of the elastic of his shorts then his boxer briefs. Tyler makes rough, turned on noises while Jamie lets his thumb slip the foreskin down, rubs the sticky wetness down the length of his cock with gentle strokes, small movements because he knows Tyler likes the tease at first. Then Jamie closes his fist around Tyler’s dick and starts to stroke him, keeping his hold loose.

He can feel the puff of Tyler’s breath against his face and Jamie’s movements stutter a little when Tyler leans his forehead against Jamie’s temple. “Yeah, Jamie, fuck, that’s it,” Tyler whispers hoarsely, “mmm, you’re so good.” Jamie closes his eyes and tries to concentrate. He loves it when Tyler talks during sex. He’s a master at it. He doesn’t do it every time but when he does, it makes Jamie crazy, hot and shivery at the same time. “Gimme your mouth. Come on, I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

Jamie lowers his head and takes the head of Tyler’s dick into his mouth, rubbing the thick vein on the underside with the flat of his tongue. Tyler sucks in a ragged breath and lets it out in the same fashion. And then Jamie starts the rhythm, moving his hand and sucking Tyler down while Tyler’s hips move up in tiny increments. 

“Feels like I’ve been — _fuck_ — hard all day. I kept blowing the three on threes today, thinking about this. Yeah, just like that. So good, Jame.”

Tyler’s hand cups the back of Jamie’s head, not pushing him but just there, his fingertips stroking against Jamie’s newly trimmed hair. It makes goose bumps rise on Jamie’s arms and his dick tries to stir again. He’s just that easy for Tyler. 

Jamie laps at the swollen head of Tyler’s dick, rubs his tongue against the slit before going deep again, sucking it hard and in his hand, Tyler’s dick stiffens tighter and Tyler groans and comes in Jamie’s mouth. Jamie takes it all, swallowing and continuing to stroke him until Tyler forces him off with a gentle tug on his hair.

“Oh, God, that was good.” Tyler’s practically whispering, his breathing hot and quick in the enclosed space. He thinks they even fogged up the windows a little. Jamie tucks Tyler back into his clothes and pulls up the elastic waist of his shorts, while Tyler lays back against the seat, panting softly. 

And he’s about to pull back when Tyler brings his hand up to Jamie’s face and Jamie freezes, his chest squeezing tight. They’re close enough that Jamie could just barely turn his head and they’d be kissing. But he and Tyler don’t do that. In bed, when they’re about to fuck, yes. Jamie’s mouth has been all over Tyler’s amazing body but they don’t kiss outside of bed, that’s not what this is, so Jamie’s not sure — 

But then, Tyler just pats his cheek lightly. “Now, we can go in.”

Tyler gets out of the Jeep and Jamie suppresses a shudder and follows. It’s only been six months but having sex with Tyler has not lost its punch. Just the opposite, really. Tyler always leaves Jamie wanting more. 

Tyler opens up the back and Jamie pulls his gear out. “So, what was that all about?” Jamie asks as they walk up to his front door. 

“You shouldn’t have kept bumping into me during the quick-ups,” Tyler says, looking slightly disgruntled for someone who just had an orgasm.

“That’s all it took?” Jamie asks. Tyler doesn’t exactly play hard to get but damn, really?

Tyler nudges him in the side. “It was today,” he says with a sidewise smile and Jamie nudges him back and they move back into friends mode just that easily. 

Jamie drops his bag at the foot of the stairs and they continue into the house to the den and he can hear the TV is going. Jamie pulls out his phone, his steps slowing as he scrolls through his messages. Eaks is trying to get a group together to watch the Mavs game Saturday. Goose wants Jamie to tell Jordie to turn on his damn phone. 

“Holy Hell.”

Tyler’s voice brings Jamie’s attention up to the TV, where he sees the biggest human being he has ever seen, in all her naked glory. Her nipples and her crotch are blurred out but its more than enough for Jamie.

“What the fuck are you freaks watching?” Tyler asks with horror.

Jordie and Daddy are slumped against each other on the sofa, their gazes glued to the TV. “My 600 Pound Life,” Jordie says distractedly, idly twisting a finger into one of the curls at the back of Daddy’s head. “Sit down and be quiet.”

Jamie shakes his head. Despite the fact that he was just the recipient of a beaut of a blow job, he’s not sure he’ll ever get hard again. “Get some help, bro,” Jamie says, recoiling as he gets another view of the woman and suddenly rethinks his decision to go with the 70-inch Samsung in HD. Just at that moment, his landline starts ringing. “Oh, thank God,” Jamie mutters, walking into the kitchen.

Behind him, Tyler swears some more. “Shit, does that woman have _balls_?” 

“It’s lymphedema. Shut up.”

It’s his mom and her usual beginning of the week phone call, asking about he and Jordie and the team. Jamie leans against the counter, listening to the latest news from Victoria and she extracts a promise from him to give Jenny a call soon. He thinks about telling her of her oldest son’s TV viewing habits but he thinks better of it. Why break his mom’s heart on a Monday?

“Dad and I were thinking of making the Florida trip. What do you think?”

Jamie hesitates. How does he tell his mom, who just wants to see her sons play some hockey, “No, mom, don’t come, we’re fucking things up big time”? February had been a disaster for the Stars. Not only did they lose Tyler, but they’d only managed three wins for the entire month. They have only one chance left to make it four but it’s against the Avs and hell, Jamie would like to think they’ve got this one but he just doesn’t know.

“Why don’t you wait till Seggy’s back, Mom? It should be soon and you know how you like to watch him play.” Tyler takes a lot of pleasure in teasing his mom and making her blush. His mom has always liked Tyler. Everyone likes Tyler.

“I like to watch you better, honey.”

“I think you should probably wait.” He feels like he’s letting everyone down. The team, his parents, the whole NH-frigging-L. The Stars had such promise at the beginning of the year. Everyone was talking about them. There were such high expectations. But Jesus, they had a horrible start and maybe only four wins in a month —

“Don’t worry, Jame. You’ll get back on track. You always do. Is everything else going okay? You sound a little down.”

Immediately, Tyler pops into his thoughts. “No, Mom. I’m fine,” Jamie says softly. “Gotta win some more games and I’ll be even better.”

He brings the conversation to a close pretty quickly after that and grabs a Gatorade out of the fridge, drinking it half down. He still has Tyler’s taste on his tongue and he needs to get rid of it before he can move on with his day. 

His pulse speeds up again as he thinks about what just happened. The heat, the urgency of it. It’s always like that with them. It’s rushed and intense, even when they have the time and privacy to slow things down. Tyler is such a distraction. Some times, Jamie wonders if it’s even worth it. 

Most days, Jamie doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.

When he walks back into the den, Jordie and Jason are in the exact same position he left them in and the awful show is still on, only now Tyler is sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him and his wide-eyed gaze on the TV. For a moment, Jamie is torn between annoyance and helpless affection. It’s his usual reaction to Tyler, now that he thinks about it. Tyler’s got his knee brace on and the sight of it always makes Jamie’s heart sink. Tyler works so hard and to be sidelined by a cheap shot when he was on his way to a record-breaking season just blows. But more importantly, the team needs Tyler if they have any kind of chance at making the playoffs. They can’t do it without him. 

“Jamie, come here,” Tyler says without looking away, “you gotta see this.”

Jamie look at the three of them and with a sigh of resignation, he turns toward his bedroom. “Let me know when you losers are ready to go eat.”

“I may never eat again,” Tyler says distractedly.

 

________

 

 

Some days, it just works. There’s hockey and there’s Tyler and they mesh together seamlessly for Jamie with no drama and without any drawn-out decisions on anyone’s part. On those days, Jamie doesn’t look beneath the surface of his or anyone else’s intentions and he and Tyler don’t have to say a word to each other. They can find each other on the ice without effort and it happens just as smoothly off the ice. 

The day of the Islanders game is one of those days. Jamie more or less follows Tyler home uninvited after morning skate. Before their pregame nap, he props Tyler up against his headboard and gives him a long, slow hand job that ends abruptly when Jamie shoves two fingers up Tyler’s ass. Tyler pulls Jamie’s hair and spews profanity while he comes. And Jamie licks everything off Tyler’s abs and rubs off against Tyler’s ridiculously expensive sheets. Afterward, they both sleep deeply until the alarm goes off.

Jamie hops in the shower for a quick rinse, passing Tyler coming in as he is on the way out, grazing Tyler’s abs with his knuckles as he does so. Tyler is going to sit in the press box so he’s taking his time and while he’s in there, Jamie half lies on the bed with his feet still on the floor and plays around with his phone. 

He looks at their schedule and realizes that the Pens game is coming up. And it gives him an idea. 

It seems like a great opportunity to see a couple of his former Olympic teammates. Jamie taps out a text but his thumb hovers over the screen for a long moment. He scrolls through it a couple more times before he thinks fuck it and hits send. 

If Kuni and Sid aren’t interested, they’ll say so. Jamie doesn’t actually expect them to accept. The Penguins are riding a big win streak and they’re pretty much a lock for the playoffs. He knows Sid has a certain way of doing things and that probably doesn’t involve meeting up with players from opposing teams for video games, if even they did win a gold medal together.

But Jamie wouldn’t mind seeing those guys and talking over old times. Good memories. Stellar memories. He needs something right now — a spark, some inspiration, _something_. Maybe he could pick Sid’s brain. Who better to ask for advice about captaining a team?

His team is struggling. Once Tyler was taken out by that shitface Kulikov, all the energy that had seen them through an, at times, mediocre season seemed to dissipate. They’d gotten off to a poor start and have been forced to play catch up ever since. 

And as hard as they’ve worked, it still hasn’t been enough so Jamie has to face the prospect of lowering his expectations. And that goes against everything he’s been taught about competition since he was old enough to hold a stick. He wants the wins but at this point, he also just wants to get through the next five weeks without anyone else getting hurt and to have enough wins to stay out of the cellar of the Central—

A shadow falls over him and suddenly, the phone gets snatched from over his shoulder. Jamie grabs for e’s not fast enough though and he ends up sprawled across the bed and reaching for empty air.

“Give it back,” Jamie demands, looking over his head, stretching his open palm out. 

Tyler is wearing a towel low around his waist, a smirk and nothing else. There’s a damp sheen over his taut muscles and Jamie blinks for a couple of seconds. Even upside down, he looks like a fucking wet dream. “Caught ya. Trying to text some random while I’m in the shower, huh? I knew it.”

Jamie gets up, walking around the edge of the bed. “Oh, yeah. You totally caught me. Now, give it.” Tyler limps out of his reach and back into the still steamy bathroom. Jamie gets seriously distracted by the long, wet line of Tyler’s back and the way Tyler’s ass moves beneath the thick cotton towel and what did he come in here for? Oh, yeah. His phone. 

“What the fuck? Fucking Crosby?” Tyler turns around, leaning against the counter and gives him a look that could mean any number of things — his beer is warm, the radio station needs to be changed, he’s personally offended by what he perceives as his teammate’s hockey/man-crush. “Aren’t you over that yet?”

Jamie feels his face heat up. He wishes he’d never told Tyler about he and Sid and that one time in Sochi. It was nothing more than Olympics sex and now, he’ll never hear the end of it. Jamie should probably work on his boundaries. “There’s nothing to get over,” Jamie shoots back, making a lightning fast lunge for his phone that’s just this side of unsuccessful. Tyler’s reflexes are amazing, even when he’s on IR.

Jamie turns sideways to fall against the doorway and drops his head back to thunk against the molding. It doesn’t help. “We’re just friends, I told you that. Less than. More like Gold Medal friends. What’s the problem?”

Tyler glares at him and shifts more of his weight against the counter. Jamie knows that his injury is healing on time but some days are worse than others and if he’s in pain, then all this crankiness would make more sense. Tyler doesn’t get jealous.

“I don’t remember you asking Toews over when they were in town.”

“Why would I? He’s the only NHL captain more boring than me.”

One corner of Tyler’s mouth twitches but his eyes don’t lose their hard determination.“Five bucks says Kunitz doesn’t show,” Tyler says and Jamie is startled into laughter. 

“Five bucks? Oooh, you’re really confident there, aren’t you, Seggy?”

“Five hundred then. Kunitz drops out and you and Crosby end up on your sofa doing stuff that would frighten animals.”

Jamie straightens and gives Tyler a speculative look of his own. If not for one slightly drunken bet during this year’s training camp, Jamie probably wouldn’t be standing here now, with a half-naked Tyler and a semi that he’s trying to will away with his mind. Jamie wonders if Tyler remembers that little detail when he talks about bets.

But he’s going to be late so Jamie gives up. “Great, that’s easy money for me. It’s a bet. Now hand me my phone. I need to get going.”

Tyler must be in some pain because there are lines between his eyes that don’t belong there. Tyler has an ability to roll with the punches like no one Jamie has ever known but this injury has been hard on him and not just physically. It’s just possible that Jamie has been hovering more than he ordinarily would but Tyler hasn’t seemed to mind so far.

Jamie gives him a captain-like stare and he can see Tyler is just about to give in when Jamie’s phone chirps. Jamie groans as Tyler scowls at it and reads out loud.

> _Sounds good. I’ll check w Kuni but I’m in._

“Well,” Tyler says with a sarcastic smile that Jamie doesn’t see very often. “Looks like you got yourself a date.”

“Thank God that’s settled.” Jamie holds his hand out one more time and hopes he won’t have to tackle his broken teammate to the tile floor to get his phone back. They’ve got the fucking Islanders tonight and Jamie doesn’t even want to think about all the possible ways it could go wrong. This season, Dallas has a premium on finding ways to lose games that they might just as easily have won.

Tyler gives him the phone with a long-suffering sigh and Jamie tucks it safely in his pants pocket. Then he moves a couple steps closer, close enough that the dampness on Tyler’s chest darkens Jamie’s thin grey tee shirt. 

“Thanks for the nap,” Jamie says, trying not to stare at Tyler’s mouth because he doesn’t need to get revved up again. He and Tyler’s chemistry off the ice is just as hot as it is on and Jamie never gets tired of feeling the warm hum of that connection. He thinks about it more than he probably should.

Tyler is always quick to put aside conflict and Sid is forgotten as he gives Jamie a half-grin that’s lit with heated satisfaction. “Anything for my captain,” Tyler says teasingly and Jamie knows it doesn’t really mean anything but a white-hot bolt of possessive pleasure goes shooting through his body whenever Tyler calls him that. 

“Yeah, thanks for the suffering through it, Seggy.”

Tyler laughs and gives Jamie a little push. “Go on. Get outta here.” Jamie smiles back. 

“Put some clothes on, show off,” Jamie says as he walks toward Tyler’s bedroom door.

“Yeah, yeah. You were the one who got me naked in the first place, remember?”

And Jamie walks down the hallway, a frown growing on his face as he’s reminded of reality. Because after all, getting Tyler Seguin naked is not a privilege reserved only for him. “See you down there,” Jamie calls over his shoulder as he goes down the hallway, determinedly shaking it off. He doesn’t have time for that now. He’s got just enough time to get home, grab his stuff and head out again to the AAC. 

 

________

 

The plane that delivers the Stars back to Dallas from their Florida road trip could double as a tomb. There’s none of the usual activity — video games, conversation, post-game self-analysis. No one is talking, everyone is keeping their own counsel. If there was a bright spot in this sorry road trip, it’s McKenzie, who not only scored the first goal on the Panthers but put the beat down on Kulikov. 

They squeeze out a win against the Panthers but they blow the game with the Bolts. They had it, then they lost it. But the Panthers game doesn’t feel like a win. Not at all. Not this season.

Result: Stars 1, State of Florida 1. Jamie Benn, 0. 

“You look like shit, Chubbs,” Jordie says on the way home.

Jamie holds onto the steering wheel of his truck with a death grip. He can’t sleep on the road. Or on a plane. Or after a loss. So he’s got a triple negative mojo working against him right now. Jamie’s pissed off, dead tired and probably a menace to everyone unfortunate enough to be driving on the Tollway at two in the morning. Thankfully, there aren’t many of those and he doesn’t have far to go.

“Don’t hold back, bro, just tell me how you really feel,” Jamie says, too tired for a decent chirp and too — too something. As road trips go, it was a short one but Jamie feels every single minute of it slicing deep into the marrow of his bones.

They’ve played 17 games since February 3 and they’ve only won six. And the hardest part to accept is they could have won the majority of those games. The team just keeps sinking in the third period and Jamie doesn’t know why. Some of it’s on Lehts but the majority of the losses are on the whole of the team. There’s such a log jam for the wild card spot but they need points and they need to find the back of the fucking net and they can’t do either.

“Jesus, you gotta stop taking every loss so personally —“

Jamie runs his tongue over his chapped lips before he answers. “Hey, Jordie, how’s about you give me a break, yeah? I don’t want to talk about it.” It’s been a while since he felt like this. Beaten up, sure but beaten up from the inside, too. What the hell is he even doing?

He knows he’s being maudlin but fuck. He’s got money in the bank but what good is that if his team is losing? He’s the captain. It’s his responsibility to get the boys back on track, keep them focused and motivated. He’d been critiqued pretty harshly from the minute he was given the C — he’s too young; he’s too quiet; he just wasn’t good in the room. And shit, Jamie feels like maybe everyone was right. He’s screwing this up. And he doesn’t know what to do about.

“You hear from Seggy?”

Jamie looks away from the road for a second to glare at his brother and his low simmering anger boils over. “And knock that off, too,” Jamie snaps, roughly loosening his tie and opening his collar before it chokes him.

“What?” Jordie asks, like he doesn’t know and Jamie thinks the top of his head is going to come off.

“I know what you’ve been doing. You keep making these insinuations about me and Seggy. Well, you can just stop it. It’s never going to happen.” Jamie pushes the accelerator a little harder. Like he gives a fuck if he gets a ticket. That would be the cherry on top of this fucked day.

“I thought it was already happening,”Jordie says quietly.

And, just like he’s been on the verge of doing since they left Tampa, Jamie snaps. He hits the steering wheel with his hand. “Stay out of my business, Jordie. You don’t know anything about anything.” His eyes are burning from exhaustion and Jamie blinks a couple times to clear them of the sting. “Tyler and I are teammates and we’re friends and that’s _it_. You got that? The end.”

He doesn’t see the compassion in Jordie’s expression but he hears it. “Okay, little bro. No more talk.”

“Thank God,” Jamie mutters, shifting on the seat and trying to resettle his body, if not his mind. Because what he told Jordie is true - he and Tyler are just friends with benefits, that’s all, nothing more. But sometimes, when he least expects it, Jamie feels a sharp sting of regret about all that they are and all that they aren’t. 

Because Jamie can’t help what he wants. And he wants more. Like on nights like tonight, after a month of bad performance and this feeling of helplessness that he doesn’t know what to do with. He wants to go home to or with somebody, to know that there’s someone nice besides his own brother who gives a fuck about him.

Jamie hasn’t heard from Tyler since after the Panthers game. While Jamie was on the bus tonight, waiting for the rest of the team to file on for the ride to the Tampa airport, he gave in and tried to call Tyler and it went straight to voice mail. A second and third call did as well, and historically, that means only one thing — Tyler is out and hooking up and Jesus, if that one little fact doesn’t turn Jamie’s already shitty night into an even shittier one.

It’s not like he didn’t know, didn’t expect it. But he hadn’t known there had been anyone lately and even so, Jamie knows better. He’s never had more than one-offs with teammates and not that many of those. Jamie falls in love too easily — it’s been his downfall since puberty. Back when he was the shy, hockey-playing fat kid, he’d had his heart broken on a regular basis and he’d learned not to expect more than physical pleasure from a “relationship.”

But Tyler. Shit, Tyler.

Jamie swallows hard as he turns off the nearly deserted Tollway. He can’t blame everything on Tyler, even if he would love to. Jamie knew what he was getting into and he knows Tyler. But once in a while, he forgets how things are. Like when he and Tyler are watching TV on Jamie’s couch and Tyler puts his head in Jamie’s lap and falls fast asleep. Or when they’re on the bench during a game and Tyler bumps his fist on Jamie’s thigh. It _feels_ like they’re more to each other than just fuck buddies and Jamie can’t help but wish it were so.

Tyler gave Jamie one hell of a good send off before they left Dallas. Tyler seemed so into him, riding his dick and looking at Jamie like he’s — whatever, Jamie didn’t really even know. But it almost felt like they were having a “moment” and it felt so good. When they were done, Jamie nearly lost his mind and kissed him, like they were something more, like it all _meant_ something. 

At the last minute, Jamie pushed his face into Tyler’s neck and Tyler wrapped his arms around Jamie and didn’t say anything so Jamie is sure he got away with it. Because regardless of what Jamie might want in his heart of hearts, that’s not what they do and in all these months, Tyler’s never given any hint that he wants to change that. Jamie can’t change the ground rules now. He’s not really in control, not when it comes to Tyler.

And besides, his perception is for shit because if Tyler couldn’t even be bothered to give his teammate — his _captain_ — a phone call after a lousy road trip. The reality of it makes Jamie’s stomach churn.

But he can’t think about it now. He just wants to get home. At this time of night (day), the trip home from Love Field is barely ten minutes but it feels like ten hours. Jamie sighs noisily as he finally turns onto his street. It was the shortest of their road trips this year but right now, his body feels like he walked every step of the way.

“Thought I’d never see this place again,” Jamie says, more to himself than to Jordie. They have barely 24 hours until they leave for Philly and then a couple days later, it’s on to the Canes and the Caps back to back and the season has never felt so long as it does _right now_ — 

“Hey, there’s someone in front of your house,” Jordie says with alarm at the same moment Jamie sees it too. Not a car, just a figure in the yard and Jamie’s reaching for his phone to call 911 when his headlights illuminate the figure so that their identity is obvious.

Jamie’s heart sinks at the sight of Tyler, his hands tucked into the front pocket of a dark Under Armour hoodie. He can’t deal with any of Tyler’s shit, not tonight. Jamie doesn’t want to hear about how much pussy his bros pulled in over the last two days and, maybe it makes him a bad sport, but Jamie definitely doesn’t want to hear about how much Tyler pulled in. He swings his truck into the driveway near the front door and kills the engine and doesn’t move for a moment.

“Get rid of him, okay, Jordie?” Jamie asks softly. He hasn’t needed Jordie to do his dirty work since he was twelve years old but he needs him now. And as he has been all of Jamie’s life, Jordie is right there.  


“I got it,” Jordie says and immediately, he’s out of the truck. Jamie takes his time and pretends to gather stuff out of the console while he listens to the low hum of the conversation being held at his tailgate. But he can’t sit in his truck all night so, taking a bracing breath, Jamie opens the door and gets out. 

“Jordie,” Tyler says, sounding midway between in control and quietly pissed off, “what the hell? I’m not leaving until I talk to Jamie.”

His outdoor security lights are on and they throw shadows onto Tyler’s worried face when he walks up. “Are you okay? I saw the whole game but I didn’t see you get hit. Why are you two are acting weird?” he says but his glare is mostly directly at Jordie. 

“Hey, Tyler, come on. We’re really beat. It’s late —“ Good old Jordie. He doesn’t give up. But neither does Tyler.

“I know what time it is,” Tyler shoots back with irritation, “I’ve been waiting for you two assholes. Why isn’t Jamie talking? What’s wrong?” He’s getting louder and Jordie isn’t backing down and Jamie knows he can’t keep neutral anymore, unless he wants to watch Jordie and Tyler start wrestling on his front lawn.

“Okay, Jesus,” Jamie says in an exaggerated whisper and starts unloading the bed of his truck of all his and Jordie’s gear. “Let’s go inside, you’re gonna wake up my fucking neighbors.” Jordie shoots him a questioning glance and Jamie shakes his head. It’s no use. Tyler Seguin is a stubborn bastard and he’s not going away until he’s ready.

“I live three blocks away. They’re my neighbors, too,” Tyler reminds him sulkily, picking up Jamie’s suitcase and wheeling it toward the front door.

Once Jamie opens up the door and quiets the alarm, he touches the cool button that turns on all the lights on the bottom floor. He, Jordie and Tyler pile everything into the foyer at the base of the stairs and then the three of them stand around in a tense circle.

“You want some company?” Jordie asks him, carefully not looking at Tyler.

“I’m just going to get something to drink and get up to bed. See you in the morning?”

“Yeah. Sure.” 

Beside him, Jamie can feel Tyler almost vibrating with impatience. “Good night, Jordie,” Tyler says pointedly and Jamie walks away, down the hallway to the back of the house to the kitchen. Now that he’s actually home and on familiar ground, he feels like he can barely keep his eyes open. 

Jamie grabs a couple of Gatorades out of the fridge and when he closes the door, Tyler is standing right there.

He jumps back, because this isn’t really the night for calm, friendly discourse. “Shit, Tyler,” Jamie says, “why don’t you put a fucking bell around your neck?” Jamie feels like he’s slurring his words, like he’s barely picking up his feet. He’s crashing fast and Jamie really wishes Tyler would just go away so he can die in peace but he can’t generate the energy to tell him so. 

“Did you hit your head?”

Jamie drops himself onto one of the barstools at the edge of the island and cracks open one of the Gatorades, guzzling down half. “Wish I had,” Jamie mumbles, staring at that one spot on the counter where he forgot to wipe up spaghetti sauce and it dried. There’s some orange liquid dripping down his chin but he doesn't have any fucks left to give tonight. “Then maybe I wouldn’t remember that whole shit road trip. Or this whole shit month. Or this whole shit season.”

“All right, just calm down,” Tyler speaks softly, like he’s on the police negotiating team, trying to talk someone down off the roof. If Jamie is honest, it totally fits the situation. The Stars are in free fall and he can’t do anything but watch. 

The lights are suddenly too bright and Jamie lays his head down on the cold granite and closes his eyes and he gives voice to his biggest, most secret fear. “We’re out of the playoffs,” he says, his throat raw. “We can’t pull it off. I guess I knew that but it just hit me driving in from the airport.”

On some distant level, he knows Tyler comes closer but Jamie is still a little startled when he’s yanked upright and pressed hard against Tyler’s warm body. Jamie makes an embarrassing noise as Tyler’s strong arms bring him closer and hold him there, secure and steady.

“Jameson,” Tyler chirps gently against Jamie’s temple, “you are a fucking mess.”

Jamie pushes his face a little more into Tyler’s chest, loving the graze of Tyler’s lips against his skin, breathing Tyler in as deep as he knows how because he really doesn’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow or the day after that and this could be his last chance. Tyler rubs Jamie’s back, sort of like the way his mom used to do when Jamie was sick. He does feel sick — about the games, the team, _everything_.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jamie mutters.

“Tell you what, buddy?” Tyler’s lips move against Jamie’s temple again and Jamie shivers a little.

“That I’m the worst captain in the NHL,” Jamie whines into the logo on Tyler’s hoodie.

Tyler groans loudly. “Okay. That’s it. You’re going to bed. Up.” He heaves Jamie out of the chair and half carries him out of the room and down the hall. Jamie lets himself be pulled along and hadn’t that been the problem to begin with? He’d been so careless with the decision to get this thing with Tyler started back in September, thinking with his dick and not his head. It hurts to think about it now. Everything hurts right now. 

Tyler has his arm around Jamie’s shoulders and that hurts, too.

Tyler walks past him to turn on the lamp on the bedside table and Jamie’s knees sort of buckle and he sits down on the corner of his bed. “And why didn’t you call me, you dick?” Jamie asks.

“My phone died.” Tyler throws it out there, so casually, like he has no idea that he’s breaking Jamie’s heart.

Jamie has to laugh but it’s the kind of laugh that’s like a knife in his windpipe. Tyler’s not even trying anymore. “Fuck you, Tyler,” he says miserably, yanking his tie off and unbuttoning his pants, “get the fuck out.” He has no idea where his suit jacket is and Jamie really doesn’t care. He just wants to sleep. 

Tyler looks at him indignantly. “Dude, I swear. I’m not talking about my battery, I mean, my iPhone is no more. I got the blue screen of death. Look, just.” He pauses and when he speaks again, Tyler sounds like the negotiator again. “Just. Get some sleep, okay? This shit will seem better in the morning.”

“Just shut it,” Jamie mutters under his breath and he clumsily starts to pluck at the buttons on his dress shirt. He doesn’t have the mental capacity to call Tyler out on his bullshit. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. Tyler has been a weak spot for Jamie since day one and that’s not going to change, even if he never touches Tyler again. 

What is he doing? He should be thinking about the team and their record, not dwell in the black cloud of his personal life. But he keeps thinking about Tyler. No good can come of this. Why has it taken so long to figure this out?

“Do you — you want me to stay?”

“You never have before,” Jamie sneers and Tyler’s head snaps back a little, like Jamie punched him.

“Gotcha. So. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jamie stays awake just long enough to undress. He slips under the covers and closes his eyes, hugging a pillow close to his chest but it does nothing to ease the tightness there. 

The truth is Jamie knew this was coming. He’d figured it out months ago. They’d nearly stopped back in January, when Tyler had skipped out on Jamie after their game with Boston. It was the All Star break and Tyler had a houseful of his Boston friends in Dally for the game. Afterwards, he’d pretty much disappeared, taking his buddies on a quick trip to Florida before going on to Columbus. He just left town, without a word.

To say Jamie handled it badly was an understatement.

There’s just something about Boston that Jamie can’t quite get over. He doesn’t like being reminded that Tyler still has close friends from his Boston days. He likes to pretend that Tyler started his career here in Dallas, that Jamie is his first captain. Sometimes, when Tyler starts in on a Boston story, Jamie has to restrain himself from yelling, _oh, so you like them better than us, do ya?_

He, Jason and Jordie had gone out after the Boston game, after Tyler ditched him and their team for his old one and Jamie lost it a little, unable to get drunk enough to forget but just drunk enough to reveal way more of his feelings to Jason and Jordie than he ever intended. 

They’d given him a pass on it because they’re good guys and the three of them had steadfastly ignored Jamie’s outburst and the cause of it. But nothing was ever quite the same for Jamie after that. The neat little box that he’d put his relationship with Tyler in split at the seams. 

When Tyler returned, Jamie had given Tyler the silent treatment , through the entire Canadian road trip that followed. But once they were back in Dallas and after a couple of days of Tyler being cute and batting his lashes at him, Jamie had caved and let Tyler blow him in the parking garage of the AAC and they went right back to where they left off.

Well, not exactly where they’d left off. Secretly, Jamie had kept hope alive in one corner of his mind. Hope that this could actually go somewhere, develop into _something_. But after January, Jamie stopped pretending that this would end well for him. Tyler will go on to date a few supermodels and eventually, he’ll marry one or two and Jamie will just have to suck it up and watch and say congratulations and eventually become poor, sad Uncle Jamie to Tyler’s kids.

There’s only so much he can do to control the direction of the team right now. But the direction of his fucked up personal life — that Jamie can do something about. 

 

 

_________

 

They get home late but they still have their usual eleven o’clock practice. Jamie feels headachy and sore, like he has a hangover and he has to force himself out of bed when the alarm goes off and he and Jordie leave in his truck. Jordie stays silent on the subject of Tyler, for which Jamie is immensely grateful. 

Once they arrive at the rink in Frisco, Jordie immediately gravitates toward Daddy and Jamie tries to avoid conversation with everyone but it’s not really necessary — the mood is pretty subdued. Jamie doesn’t see Tyler at all, not until they’re gathered for their pre-practice meeting. Tyler is already in the room when Jamie walks in. It’s instinctual for him to look for Tyler; he’s been doing that on and off the ice for nearly two years now. But as soon as their eyes meet, Jamie turns away. 

Lindy goes through their game plan for the Flyers and Jamie tries his best to listen but he has an uneasy feeling in his stomach that’s been there since Tampa and it’s only getting worse. And just as the meeting ends, the team gets the news — Tyler’s been cleared. He’s going to be with them for the second half of their road trip. 

There’s a lot of backslapping and chirping that follows and Jamie hangs back, his chest squeezing tight, thinking about what it means for the team, how they always seem to have a chance when Tyler’s there, how nothing’s been the same for the Stars without him.

If the guys notice that he’s not really part of the celebration, they keep it to themselves. The room clears as every one goes out to the ice, until it’s only Tyler and Jamie left.

Tyler looks at him and shrugs, like he doesn’t care one way or the other, but Jamie knows how many extra hours Tyler put in to get back on the ice. It occurs to Jamie that this was likely one reason Tyler had waited for him last night, so he could tell him the good news in person. Jamie thinks about Tyler holding him and trying to make him feel better and he has to breathe around a knot of regret in his throat. He feels like even more of a shit than he did last night and he honestly didn’t think that was possible. 

Jamie walks over to him and gives in to a cautious smile. “I’m glad, Seggy. You worked hard to get back.”

Tyler’s brown eyes darken. “This isn’t over, you know,” he says with low intensity. “It’s not too late.”

Last night, he didn’t believe it possible. Last night, he couldn’t see anything but gloom ahead. He’s not entirely sure he believes it now, but Tyler’s back and that has the ability to change _everything_. For the team, anyway. “Yeah,” Jamie says quietly. “Maybe it’s not.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Come on, Jamie. You gotta. For us? _Please._ ”

Jamie scowls at the pair of idiots standing in front of his sofa. “How old are you guys again?”

Jordie crosses his arms over his chest while looking vaguely disgusted. “Younger than you, apparently. You’re acting like an old, worn-out goalie.”

Daddy laughs. “Yeah, an old goalie. Good one, bud.”

Jordie grins. “Thanks, bud.”

The corner of Jamie’s mouth twitches but he won’t give in to a smile. The way his brother’s gaze lingers on Daddy is ridiculous. They haven’t formally told him anything but Jamie knows. All of Dallas probably knows.

But as amusing as Jordie and Daddy are, Jamie is tired. The day sucked, his hip hurts and Jamie just wants to sit on his sofa so he can wallow in self pity. He’s earned that right. “Don’t you two losers have someone else to bother tonight?”

Daddy flops down next to him and puts an arm around Jamie’s shoulders. “No one we love more than you. Come on, Chubbs. It’s been a rough few days. Months. You need to have a little fun.”

“And I’m going to. I’m going to sit here and eat a grilled chicken salad that I made with my own two hands and then later, I’m going to turn on Channel Five news and then I’m going to bed.” It sounds like a delightful fucking evening to Jamie. But Jordie and Daddy exchange incredulous expressions.

“That’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Daddy says.

“And he’s the captain,” Jordie points out with a grimace. “What does that say about the rest of us?”

Daddy drops his head to Jamie’s shoulder and moans. “Jaaaay — meeeee. Come onnnn.”

Jamie looks up at Jordie, who is obviously using every ounce of willpower he’s got to keep his hands off Daddy. “Will you get him the hell out of here?”

Jordie snaps out of his trance and fixes Jamie with a glare.“Just 30 minutes. No, one beer,” he hurries on when Jamie starts to argue. “Have one beer with us and then you can come back here to your sad little life.”

He’s having trouble coming up with a good reason to refuse. They’re leaving for Philly first thing in the morning and they won’t be home again for six days and really, what the hell else does he have to do? “All right, fine, I’ll come.” Jamie waits a beat and then looks down at Daddy. “You want to get off me now?”

Daddy snuggles in closer. “You’re comfy.”

Jamie groans and gives him a shove so he can get up and change out of his tee shirt.

“And don’t put any more gel in your hair,” Jordie calls out.

“And wear a shirt with buttons,” Daddy adds.

“Shut up,” Jamie yells back.

 

________

 

That’s how Jamie winds up at a table on the patio at a new restaurant at West Village. It’s a SoCal place that receives high marks from Daddy but they decide to go there anyway. He recommends the bacon cheese tater tots (they get two orders) and a California ale made with coriander and orange peel (“I’ll have a Shiner,” Jamie tells the waiter).

When they first come in, there’s a light flurry of autograph and picture requests but it’s Dallas, so people quickly leave them alone. They talk a little about the upcoming road trip but the conversation centers more around non-hockey subjects. It’s actually a nice change. Though he’d never give them the satisfaction of saying so, by the time their food arrives, Jamie is glad Daddy and Jordie dragged him out of the house.

He’s never given the amount of free time he’s spent with Tyler much thought — it always just _happened_ , almost from the beginning. He and Jordie had made an unspoken agreement with Stars management — to make sure Tyler survived the switch from Boston to Dallas intact and with minimal damage to himself, the team and the Metroplex.

What began as a mission turned into a surprisingly close friendship. And once he and Tyler started sleeping together, well, they just spent part of that friendship time sweaty and naked.

So Jamie feels a little out of sync doing things apart from Tyler. Social situations have never (and will never) be his strong suit and his first instinct, whenever he gets asked out, is to make up an excuse and escape. Tyler made all that easier for Jamie, just by being next to him.

Now, that space that Tyler used to occupy is empty. Its not quite a missing-a-limb kind of loss but Jamie’s aware that there’s something off.

But a little change is nice, too, especially after the weirdness of the last couple of days and Jamie has to admit, if only to himself, that sitting outside on a cool Dallas evening and listening to an inane debate over the life lessons contained in Talledega Nights is just what he needed.

“But his dad was right,” Daddy argues earnestly, “if you’re not first, you _are_ last. We’re athletes. We learned that in Mites. At least, I did.” His gaze narrows suspiciously at both Jordie and Jamie. “I don’t know what they were teaching in Victoria.”

“I think they taught us not to apply stuff we’ve seen in movies to real life,” Jordie says, nudging Jamie with his elbow, “especially not movies made by second-rate comedians.”

Daddy’s eyes narrow to hateful slits. “You couldn’t say that if you’d watched The Campaign with me, like _I asked you to._ ”

Jamie and Jordie fall into each other, laughing, when Daddy’s phone goes off. “Snobby fuckers,” he mutters under his breath before he answers. “Hey, Seggy. What’s up?”

Daddy’s words cause Jamie’s laughter to die a swift death and just as quickly, he wonders at his chances of sneaking out of here in the next three seconds. Jordie must sense that he’s ready to run because he hangs his arm across the back of Jamie’s chair, placing him within grabbing range.

“Yeah, I’m sitting here at PS214 with two assholes that wouldn’t know a classic movie if — of course, Jamie and Jordie. Who else would I —” Daddy’s gaze flickers over to Jamie and he smiles in a way that makes Jamie distinctly uncomfortable. “How about that? No, we didn’t bribe him. I may have whined a little, though. Oh, fuck you.”

“Uh. I’m going to the washroom,” Jamie says under his breath to Jordie.

“Here. Seggy wants to talk to you.”

Jamie is halfway out of his seat and he stares at Daddy’s phone like it’s an unexploded bomb. Daddy shakes it at him when he doesn’t take it immediately and Jamie doesn’t have any choice.

“Hey, Seggy,” Jamie says, hoping desperately that a waiter will drop a tray or there’ll be a car crash at the intersection.

“Look at you, out on a Sunday night.” It feels so good to hear his voice over the phone again, even though Jamie had seen and heard him in the flesh only this morning at practice.

“That’s not so strange.”

Tyler laughs and the sound sends a ripple of warmth down Jamie’s spine. This is stupid — if this is Jamie’s choice, why does he have to miss Tyler so much? “If you say so. So. What’s going on? Why are you pissed at me?”

Jamie glances up. Jordie and Daddy aren’t even trying to pretend they aren't drinking in every word. With a glare at both of them, Jamie steps over the low railing to the sidewalk.

“Nothing’s going on,” Jamie says, walking away from the restaurant.

“Wow. So you’re going to stick with that story?”

There’s an edge in Tyler’s voice that puts Jamie on the defensive. “What do you want, Tyler?”

“You’ve been acting weird since you got back last night. Now that I think about it, you’ve been acting weird for a while now. What’s up with you?”

Jamie slows down and stops. “I’m — since the —“ He’s grasping and he sounds like it and finally, he has to give up. “We can’t lose any more games. I’m just trying to focus on that.”

“Are you fucking someone?”

Jamie ducks behind a pillar, as though someone might hear their conversation if he doesn’t. “Are you kidding me? You’re asking me this now?”

“If not now, when?”

Jamie shakes his head, torn between being freaked out and furious. “Where do you get off? I’ve never once asked you —”

“Ask away, dude. You can ask me anything you want.”

He goes still, his pulse pounding in his ears. It almost sounds like Tyler is daring him to ask. Like he would ask Tyler if he’s fucking anyone else. Like he really wants that little tidbit of knowledge shoved in his face. Why confirm what he already knows? Jamie wets his suddenly dry lips. He doesn’t know what kind of game Tyler is trying to play but he’s not playing it.

“I gotta go,” Jamie says quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He cuts the connection and rests back against the rough concrete pillar, fighting to pull a normal breath from his tight chest.

This isn’t working. None of this is working, not with Tyler assuming that Jamie is only having some kind of tantrum. He has to put an end to this. And it can’t wait much longer.

Jamie straightens and looks up, at the people milling around, enjoying the beautiful evening and a lonely ache twists through him. After a couple of seconds, he pockets Daddy’s phone and walks back toward the restaurant. He’s ready to fucking get back home.

 

________

 

_Washington, D.C._

 

Jamie knows what it’s like to win — he has Olympic gold; World Juniors gold; he’s been to the All Stars. But winning with _this_ team, with _these_ guys is steps above all that. When they’re rolling, when everything is clicking, it feels better than anything else in the world. When he comes off the ice in Washington, everyone is slapping each other on the back and chirping back and forth and it’s as perfect as anything ever could be.

He does his press and one of the reporters mentions that he and Alex Ovechkin are at the top of the list of players who’ve scored the most points since the All-Stars game. Jamie has to laugh at that.

As if he’s been counting. As if he gives a shit. All he cares about right now is the Stars win-loss record. All the team can do at this point is rack up as many wins as they can. They can’t worry about where other teams are in the standings or who is on the fucking NHL leader board. They have to focus. They have to _win._

This road trip is the polar opposite of the last one and everyone seems to feel it. Food from a local restaurant is set out for them when they get on the plane and they devour it standing up prior to finding a seat. Some of the guys are talking to their wives or kids on the phone, which leaves more for the single guys to eat.

“Hey, fuckers.” Fidds interrupts his phone conversation to warn them.,“save some for me. Well, sorry, babe,” he says, returning to his wife, “but you know how fast these jokers can go through a deli platter.”

“You snooze, you lose, old man,” Horcoff laughs with his mouth full.

“Aren’t you older than him?” Rous asks, gaining a frown for his trouble.

“Mind your own business, child.”

“Come, dědeček,” Hemmer says, putting his arm around Horcoff’s shoulder. “I help you back to your seat.”

“You’re just trying to keep me away from the food.”

“Yes. That’s true, “Hemmer says with a smile but Horcoff goes without further complaint, leaning heavily on Hemmer as if he is, in fact, a grandpa and they both laugh.

Tyler sits down next to Jamie and Jamie doesn’t say anything. He’s been doing his best to turn he and Tyler back into teammates only and so far, it’s worked pretty well. Tyler stays out of his space now and they haven’t hung out after practice for the last week, not since before the Florida road trip. Tyler seems fine with it, though, as Jamie knew he would be. Tyler doesn’t stress over that kind of thing, not ever. And there aren’t many texts anymore. And it’s fine with Jamie — they’ve all got to keep their heads in the game right now, with as few distractions as possible.

It’s not that easy, though. Jamie has to be careful not to go too far and arouse suspicion, not only among his nosy teammates but the coaches as well. Tyler is still the first guy Jamie seeks out when it’s time to pass on the ice and they remain pretty loose in practice.

But off the ice, things are different. At least, once a day, Jamie gets a look from Jordie that Jamie interprets as his “what the fuck are you doing?” stare but so far, Jamie has successfully avoided that conversation.

And he can’t think about that now. This win was essential and they got it and tonight feels like a party. Someone turns on some Biggie Smalls, loud enough that Jamie can feel the thump of the bass line in his chest. It’s not his usual music preference but tonight, it’s appropriate.

Even though he’s a terrible dancer, Jamie can barely stay in his seat. Adrenaline is still pumping through his veins and it’s all he can do to sit still. He slumps down a little to help suppress the urge to do something he’ll never live down. His teammates have notoriously long memories and besides, it’s not worth it to risk ligament damage just to show his team that he has secret, wicked moves.

From the corner of his eye, Jamie can see Tyler hold his phone out in front of him and Jamie gives him a quick glance, expecting to see Tyler taking yet another selfie. But he’s making a vid instead and he swings the phone away from himself and at Jamie. Jamie does a head-banger move, something that would be more at home at a Five Finger Death Punch concert than the music that’s playing now. Goose is sitting across from them and he laughs at Jamie’s uncool-ness but Tyler just keeps filming while barely cracking a smile.

 _That’s weird_ , Jamie thinks a little later, staring out the darkened window and catching his own frowning face. Tyler is subdued tonight. He’d noticed it during Tyler’s post game interviews. He’d answered all the questions with proper, media approved responses but he was dialed down, quiet. It’s not like him at all.

Tyler has picked up where he left off as far as on ice production but he still wears a brace when he’s skating and it’s clear he’s not 100 percent. The captain in him wonders whether he should talk to him about it but he dismisses the idea. If there’s something wrong, the trainers and the docs would let him know.

Once they take off from Dulles and the lights are dimmed, everyone settles down pretty quickly. Jamie removes his toque and his hoodie because he gets hot — he always gets hot. He reclines his seat so he can stretch out and he manages to doze for a few minutes. But a little bit of turbulence shakes him awake and he opens his eyes to confirm that Goose has moved on to his usual seat. He also sees that Tyler is no longer beside him.

Jamie shifts on the leather cushions and tries to find a more comfortable position but there just isn’t one when it comes to sleeping on an airplane, not even on this tricked out charter. He closes his eyes but he’s awake, his thoughts moving forward to the game with the Blues on Sunday. They’ve split their series 2-2 this year and in the game back in December, he and Backes had gotten into it at the end of the 3rd. Jamie smirks as he recalls the satisfaction he got from landing a few punches in Backes's smug face. The ass is still bitter over leaving Sochi without even a bronze, is Jame’s assumption. What a loser.

The next time he turns his head, Tyler still isn’t back and Jamie’s sure it’s been at least ten minutes. He sits all the way up and looks over the back of his seat, toward the rear of the plane. Maybe he just changed seats though Jamie doesn’t know why he would because Tyler can sleep anywhere, anytime.

He mulls it over for a second, then he gets up and starts down the aisle. His eyes adjust to the dim light but he doesn’t see Tyler. Everyone is asleep, except for Eaks, who’s absorbed by the footage from the game on his iPad and he doesn’t even glance up when Jamie walks by.

As he nears the back of the plane, Jamie follows the path lighting to the closed door to the washroom and he hesitates a moment before leaning in close, not wanting to draw attention to what he’s doing. He raps on the door lightly with his knuckles.

“Seggy?” Jamie tries to be quiet but loud enough to be heard over the engine noise. “You in there?”

The door opens almost immediately and Jamie holds his breath because it’s Tyler alright. He looks okay, though it’s not easy to tell in the muted blue coming from the safety light. Jamie’s been spending the last several days avoiding staring at Tyler straight-on like this and it jars him a little when he realizes that Tyler’s wearing that same somber expression he’s had all night.

It’s also been a while since he’s allowed himself to be this close to Tyler (in street clothes, anyway) and just that quickly, the arousal that Jamie has been trying to deny is humming warmly just under his skin. Tyler looks so good, wearing a baggy dark ribbed sweater that shows off his neck and a good deal of collarbone. And tonight, they fucking beat the Caps. Tyler slammed in a seven hole off Holtby, so Jamie’s been on the verge of a hard on for hours, anyway.

But something’s wrong, Jamie can tell and he bends his head down closer. He steps into the tiny cubicle, enough so that the folding door is held open by his body. “You okay?” Jamie asks softly. And to his alarm, Tyler shakes his head in the negative.

“No,” he answers back, just as softly. “No, I’m not.”

Jamie goes cold all over. “Are you hurt, what’s the m—“

Tyler kisses him, at first, just a touch of their lips, as if testing the waters because after all, they’ve done a whole shitload of stuff to each other but this is not in their game plan. At first, Jamie is too stunned to react. But it’s Tyler and _fuck_ aside from the bullshit he’s been telling himself about being done, he wants this, even if they’re half in and half out of an airplane bathroom with their whole team nearby.

And before Jamie can even think about murmuring a warning that this is dangerous and a little stupid, Tyler tilts his head and the whole thing gets turned up. The tip of his tongue teases the crease of Jamie’s lips and then they’re doing this for real. Jamie leans further into the bathroom, pushing Tyler back against the sink while Jamie licks into Tyler’s mouth. Tyler comes back at him, slow and hot, like he knows exactly how to make Jamie insane. And of course, he does. He’s been doing it for months.

The plane hits another bump and they knock into each other. Jamie’s heart is hammering against his ribs because jeez, anyone could see them right now but he braces himself against the mirror and Tyler slides his calloused hand up under Jamie’s tee shirt to bring Jamie closer against him. He holds on, kissing Jamie like the fucking plane is going down, with lots of tongue and a sound from deep inside his chest that Jamie can feel in his.

Jamie fights like hell to keep from making noise but Tyler is making it hard. Hell, he’s making _Jamie_ hard, harder than he’s been since the last time they were together. And so is Tyler, judging from what Jamie feels when the plane jumps again and Tyler gets jostled against him again. Tyler gives one of Jamie’s nipples a gentle pinch and Jamie groans, pushing his hips against Tyler and every nerve ending in his dick leap to attention.

There’s a little ding in the cabin and _fuck, seatbelts_ and that’s their cue to slow it all the way down. Tyler maneuvers his hand out from under Jamie’s shirt and Jamie lets his hand slide off Tyler’s arm, down the front of his chest and down to his hip. And reluctantly, they pull back.

“Tyler,” Jamie says but he doesn’t know how to finish. Because nothing’s really changed, as perfect a kiss as it was, they’re still the same people in the same situation.

“Go back and sit down,” Tyler whispers against Jamie’s mouth, giving him one last press of his lips. “I’ll be right there.” He gives Jamie a little push at the waist.

And automatically, Jamie does it, like he’s some lust-powered robot and he just does whatever Tyler says. He tugs his tee shirt down as low as it will go and he’s glad that it’s dark so no one who might be awake notices his enormous boner. Jamie slides back into his seat and puts his seatbelt on with badly shaking hands, watching nervously for Tyler’s return. It occurs to Jamie that its a good thing he plays hockey for a living and doesn’t have to support himself as a government spy because he’d be shit at it.

Jamie’s stomach drops when Tyler returns to his seat. He turns expectantly, not sure what he’s going to say or what Tyler might say. But none of that matters because Tyler doesn’t even glance at him. He buckles in and reclines his seat all the way back, like this is just another plane ride home. He doesn’t acknowledge Jamie but closes his eyes and turns his head toward the aisle.

For a couple of seconds, Jamie just freezes, with his mouth open, not sure what the hell just happened or what to do next. Tyler doesn’t so much as twitch in Jamie’s direction. Like he didn’t just have his tongue in Jamie’s mouth or grind against Jamie like he wanted to fuck him standing up.

When it becomes clear that _nothing_ is going to happen, Jamie stretches out again and tries to sleep, but he doesn’t have a chance in hell now. He’s so turned on, he can’t settle his mind or his body down. All he can do is relive the sensation of Tyler’s powerful body against him and the silky heat of his mouth. Jamie’s eyes are closed but he’s tightly alert the rest of the way to Dallas. Every air pocket that the plane hits jostles him in his seat and reminds him of Tyler’s erection bumping his.

When they land at Love Field, Jamie can only watch in growing confusion as Tyler gathers his stuff and is one of the first off the plane. By the time Jamie gets to the parking lot, Tyler’s already in his Jeep and driving toward the exit. Jamie says his goodbyes to the boys and gets in his truck. He’s thankful that Jordie is leaving with Daddy tonight.

The whole way home, his body thrums with arousal. He tries to ignore it but his dick is _throbbing_ and he keeps replaying that kiss over and over in his head and his hard on is just not going away.

Jamie keeps one hand on the wheel and he pushes his palm against his dick with the other. The pressure makes him gasp, it feels so good, even though he wishes it was Tyler’s hand on him right now, pulling Jamie’s dick free of his pants and wrapping his long fingers around it, maybe bending down and putting his mouth on it, sliding his tongue over the head.

By the time he gets home, Jamie’s about to explode and just manages to get to his bedroom before he gets his pants open and pushes his shirt up to his armpits. He lays back on the bed with all his clothes on and jerks himself into the fastest orgasm he’s had in weeks.

In the aftermath, panting and dizzy, Jamie raises his head off the mattress to look at the streaks of come on his stomach and his hoodie and his spent dick flopped over against his zipper, still twitching weakly.

“Fuck you, Tyler” Jamie says out loud. Then, as a wave of helplessness washes over him, Jamie rests back on the bed and says more softly, “Tyler.”

 

 

________

 

_Dallas_

 

They have a day off after their home game against the Blues and Lindy and Dave order him to take that literally. They want him off his feet, to rest his hip and Jamie doesn’t have to be told twice. He’s sleeps in and is barely out of bed when Jordie calls.

“Liberty Burger?” Jordie asks, without any lead-in.

Jamie makes his way down the hall with a grimace. His hip hurts like a bitch this morning. “Is it lunchtime already?” It’s a day off but he didn’t mean to sleep so late.

“Close enough. You want to meet me?”

Jamie makes a noise that his brother interprets accurately. “Fine. I’ll pick up. You know, you’re becoming a real little princess, Chubbs.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get me the Wild West with sweet potato fries.”

“I know. See you in 45.”

He’s moving a little slower than normal. Losing a shutout to the Blues never makes for a pleasant morning after. He turns off the alarm and makes some iced tea because he’s lived in Texas long enough that its pretty much automatic by now. And by the time Jordie arrives with the food, Jamie has an ice pack on his hip and has their game queued up on his TV.

Jordie gets some plates and glasses and they eat in the living room, downing their hamburgers in between dissecting plays. It’s almost enough to make them lose their appetites. They went 0-7 on the power play. They beat the Blues on shots and on face offs and still couldn’t get one in the back of the net. And worse, it was their 8th home loss out of the last ten.

“Here’s an idea, “Jordie says when the food is gone and Jamie, in disgust, switches over to Judge Mathis. “We’ll bring in someone to blow up the AAC. That way, the rest of our season will be nothing but away games.” Jordie gives him a creepy wink. “I know some guys from Cedar Park that would love to take the job.”

Jamie groans as he leans over slowly and puts his empty plate on the coffee table. “Great idea, bro. You’ll be a big hit in the Texas prison system.”

“Hell, yeah, I would,” Jordie says proudly, as he gets up to take the dirty dishes back to the kitchen. “You should go in and get some therapy on your hip today.”

Jamie sighs heavily, staring blankly at the wall. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just lie here and drink beer for the next twelve hours.”

“That’s a legit option. A little unlike you, but okay, I can work with that.”

Jamie resettles the ice pack and stretches out length-wise on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling and wondering how the fuck he’s going to fix things. And not just the team.

It’s weird having a day off without Tyler. He eyes his cell phone on the coffee table and sends out a psychic message to but Jamie’s not shocked when it doesn’t. Why would Tyler call him? Jamie’s been sending out the _don’t touch_ vibe for a while now and except for that insane kiss on the plane, Tyler’s been keeping his distance.

So Tyler doesn’t call. He’s not going to call. But that doesn’t stop Jamie from wishing with every molecule in his body that he would. He doesn’t have a clue as to what he would say if Tyler did call but he wouldn’t hate hearing his voice and his stupid laugh.

“Hey, you really want a beer?” Jordie calls out.

Jamie thinks about it. “No, not yet.”

Jordie comes back and takes the other sofa and from his peripheral vision, Jamie can see him stretch out on the length of it. He doesn’t have a beer yet, either. “So. You gonna tell me what’s going on?” Jordie asks.

There are only two things going on with Jamie right now, so he picks the safer option. “Do you think my ‘C’ is in danger?”

“Of being taken away?” Jordie laughs. “You’re kidding, right?”

He clamps down on his teeth. “I’m serious.”

“Nill would never do that. Have you seen the interviews he’s given lately? I’m pretty sure he has a man-crush.”

“You are so not helpful, bro.”

“Kid, he gave you the job. Why would he take it away? Because we’ve lost a few at home? He’d need a helluva lot better reason than that.”

Jamie sits up, panic roiling in his gut. “If they can take the ‘C’ away from Joe fucking Thornton, they can sure as hell take it away from me.”

Jordie shakes his head against the arm of the sofa. “Apples and oranges. Daddy told us about that front office and the shit that goes down there. Our management is relatively sane.” He shrugs his shoulders. “So far.”

Jamie swings his feet to the floor and sits back. “Maybe,” Jamie says, feeling tired. “I don’t know.”

“ _I know._ It won’t happen. And on the off chance it did, the boys wouldn’t stand for it. They’d go to the wall for you and then they’d have a fucking bigger problem than an at-home loss record.” Jordie gives him a narrowed glance. “Where is this coming from? Is this really about the team or — something else?”

Jamie lets his head fall all the way back against the cushions. Jordie knows him better than anyone on the planet. It’s stupid to try and hide anything from him. Jamie couldn’t do it when he was seven years old and he can’t do it now.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Seggy?” Jordie asks quietly. “Because if you think you two are fooling anybody, you’re way off.”

Jamie grimaces. “So the team knows we were — together?”

“There was never any group discussion, if that’s what you’re asking. But they know you were close. And they know something’s wrong now.”

Jamie lifts his head slowly, because it suddenly feels like it weighs a ton. “You know what? I think I’m ready for that beer.”

 

 

 [Tyler's vid from the Dallas Stars charter after the Caps game](http://goo.gl/TDE3d4)


	3. Chapter 3

Once he has a cold, sweaty bottle of Shiner in his hand, something to hold onto so he’s not just out there with his stupid feelings all alone, Jamie starts to talk.

He’s wanted to talk to Jordie for months, since training camp and especially after his meltdown after the Bruins game but he just couldn’t do it. But now that it’s all over and he’s fucked it up so badly, Jamie wants to spill his guts. He’s got nothing to lose now.

“Tyler and I did that fan thing at training camp — the Q & A at Sundance Square, remember?” Jamie’s face gets hot as the memories flood back. He hates that part of his job so much. He doesn’t like being the center of attention and he’s terribly awkward in front of crowds. At this point, he can’t imagine it ever getting easier.

“You know how I suck at those things. It was hot as fuck, of course and I was just trying to get out without making a fool of myself. Then, Tyler shows up dressed in black in 100 degree heat.” Jason closes his eyes and groans a little. “He looked fantastic. Like he just left a photo shoot for fucking Vogue. I mean, who does that?”

“Chubbs? You’re drifting.”

Jamie opens his eyes. “Oh. Right. Well, Tyler was being such an irritating fuck. He kept chirping me. I was wearing a plain white tee shirt and Tyler was saying it was a Fruit of the Loom.”

Jordie laughs out loud and a corner of Jamie’s mouth lifts. “I know it sounds stupid now but I was nervous about the interview so I was getting pretty pissed. Then he left me hanging out there, making me take most of the questions. So when we went back inside, I ended up slamming him against the wall and we kinda made two interns from PR cry a little.”

“Wow. I always miss the good stuff.”

“Anyway, Tyler apologized and to make it up to me, we went out and we had a few and the next thing I know, we’ve made this bet. That I can’t do more pull-ups than he can.”

“You can’t.”

Jamie glares at Jordie. “Yes, Jordie, I know that, but I couldn’t back down then. So, the next day, we meet at his house and we use his gym and I do 22 pull-ups.”

Jordie looks impressed. “A personal best for you.”

“Definitely. And Tyler does 20.”

Jordie shakes his head, his eyes wide, like he can’t believe it. “That freak always does at least 22. At least. At a minimum. I mean, I’ve never seen him do less than —”

“Well, he didn’t that day and I won the bet.”

Jordie’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “So what was the bet? Or — do I want to know what the bet was?”

Jamie smirks. “I don’t know. Do you?”

Jordie grimaces. “So you guys weren’t together until this years’ training camp? I actually thought it happened before that.”

“Well, it didn’t. And ever since then, it’s been a casual thing. We’re together whenever and it was fine for a while. But it’s just not working now. I don’t think it’s what I want anymore.”

Jordie slowly gets up and comes over to sit on the coffee table in front of Jamie. “So. You’re gonna break up with Seggy? Now?” Jordie asks with some alarm. 

“How can it be a break up if we’re not together?”

“I know, but —“

“But nothing. I’ve been avoiding him but he needs to know. I’m done.”

“You sure about this, Chubbs? Because —“

Jamie sighs heavily. “Because what?”

“Because I’ve been looking at your big, dumb face for most of my life. And that face,” Jordie says, sticking his finger irritatingly close to Jamie’s nose, “that one, _right there_? That’s your ‘I’m stupid in love’ face.”

Jamie slaps Jordie’s hand down. “Shut up, it is not. This is my ‘Jordie is fucking annoying me’ face.”

“Ha. And this is my ‘Damn, I’m good’ face because I’m right and you know it.”

Jamie starts to argue back, but when the time comes, he can’t find the words. Shit, who is he kidding? He does love Tyler; Jamie’s loved him practically since the first time Tyler stepped a blade on the AAC ice. He screwed up, agreeing to that bet and letting this — whatever it is — continue for so long.

“I can’t fuck this up, Jordie. Maybe they won’t take my ‘C’ away for a few losses, but they sure as hell would do it if I fuck things up over my feelings for Tyler.” Jamie groans out loud and drops his head into his hands. “Oh, shit. I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth.”

“Pretty pathetic. I don’t know if I can come over here anymore.”

Jamie laughs because, really, what else can he do? Tyler proposed that stupid bet but Jamie had been free to turn it down. And when Tyler said, “Just casual. No biggie,” Jamie didn’t have to agree to that, either. But he did and now, they have 12 games left and, as Nana Benn used to say, all his bad decisions have come home to roost. 

Next time, though. Next time, he’ll be smarter. He’ll set his sights lower. He’ll fall for an astronaut or a Prime Minister or someone like that. Someone easier and less complicated than Tyler Seguin.

“Seriously, though.” Jordie’s voice forces him out of the depressing circle of his thoughts. “It’s not like this is all one-sided.”

Jamie takes a long swig from his beer. “What do you mean?” he asks tiredly.

“The only person easier to read on this team than you is Seggy. If you don’t think he’s just as stupid about you as you are about him, well, you’re dumber than I thought you were.”

Jamie can’t even go there at this point. He can only shake his head. “I’m totally screwed. No pun intended.”

“Yep. No argument here.”

His pants pocket starts to vibrate a second before it dings and Jamie pulls his phone out. “Ah. A message from an unknown number,” Jamie says, unlocking it, eager for the distraction. “Good timing.”

“Don’t open that shit. Do you want to get a virus? What a terrible Captain.”

Jamie shoves at Jordie’s face and Jordie gracefully ducks. But Jamie’s kinda desperate right now so he opens the message. “Huh. Its from Sid. He says his phone was hacked and to block the old number.”

Jordie rolls his eyes as he stands up. “Alert The Hockey News.”

“And that they’re staying at the Stoneleigh and he wants to meet in the bar Wednesday night before the game.”

“Well, Crosby should take your mind off your troubles. You know, I never thought I’d say this to my little bro,” Jordie says, looming over him, “but you seriously need to get laid.”

Jamie leans his head back. Despite what he’d said to Tyler, that had kind of been the direction he’d been heading when he invited Sid over in the first place. So maybe, he ought to take his bro’s advice on this one. Jamie presses his lips together grimly. _Why not?_ he asks himself, sending a reply in the affirmative to Sid. _Why the fuck not?_

 

________

 

The valet at the Stoneleigh is a Stars fan and he recognizes Jamie at once. So he’s more than happy to keep Jamie’s truck at the curb while he goes inside and Jamie gives him one of the signed cards he keeps in his console. 

There’s a big, half-circle bar at the far end of the lobby and Jamie walks toward it, keeping his head down and trying to be inconspicuous. He’s not sure why he feels it necessary — it’s not like he’s committing adultery here. But he is picking up Sidney Crosby, so to speak and he doesn’t really want that photo plastered across the internet. 

No one stops him until he makes it to the bar and then, Jamie hears his name called out in a deep voice.

“Jamie Benn.”

Jamie turns around and _holy shit_ , it’s Evgeni Malkin. Jamie knows his mouth drops open like an idiot but he can’t help it. He’s been playing with Canadians long enough that they’re just regular guys but Malkin is Russian and one of the best players in Russia and the _world_ and they’ve never said more than two words to each other.

“Uh,” Jamie says intelligently. “Hey.”

Malkin grins at him. “Evgeni Malkin.”

It takes a couple of seconds to realize what Malkin says because clearly, North Americans don’t pronounce his first name properly. But then it kicks in and Jamie extends his hand. “Uh, yeah. Good to finally meet you. I didn’t think you’d make the trip.”

Malkin’s big hand grips Jamie’s strongly for a couple of seconds before he slowly lets go, letting his fingers trail across Jamie’s palm. “Coach ask me. Still not play but good for team. For me, too.” Malkin is wearing dark pants and a white tee shirt and his dark hair is combed over to one side. Jamie has never been this close to him in street clothes and all Jamie can think is _damn_. He’s a little taller than Jamie, not as muscular but still. Damn.

“Sid have press things to do. So I say I take his place tonight.”

“Oh.” Jamie brain stutters at this news. He can understand the obligations of a captain and these things happen. But —

“Is problem?” Malkin asks with a teasing light in his eyes. “I go back up to room?”

“No. No, no, of course not,” Jamie says hastily and then, it’s very possible, that he giggles a little. He doesn’t really know if he’s reacting like this because of what’s going on with Tyler lately or just because it’s frigging _Evgeni Malkin,_. “Can I buy you a drink?” he offers, feeling his face getting hot.

Malkin checks out the bar, as if he just realized it’s there and then, he nods decisively. “Yes. Sound good.”

They slide into a couple of the tall bar stools and the bartender comes right over. “What can I get you gentlemen?”

Jamie looks at Malkin and nods encouragingly. “I have vodka shot,” he says.

“Make it two,” Jamie adds and when the bartender asks about brands, Jamie tells Malkin to decide. He needs something strong and fast-acting, to bring his nerves and his pulse back down to normal levels. 

The vodka Malkin chooses is nothing Jamie’s ever heard of before but then, he’s not much for straight alcohol, anyway. After the bartender pours, they lift their glasses and Malkin says something in Russian and clinks his glass against Jamie’s. They down their drinks and Malkin laughs when Jamie squints and coughs a little.

“You not vodka drinker?”

“No. Beer, usually,” Jamie says roughly. It feels like his esophagus is on fire. “And not much of that during the season.”

“You sound like Sid. Is Canadian thing, maybe?”

“I think you’ve played with enough Canadians to know better than that,” Jamie says with a smile.

Malkin half turns on his seat and his long thigh presses against Jamie’s in a way that is strangely intimate. The vodka shot which had just begun to soothe his jumpiness now starts a warm glow in the pit of his stomach. 

“Vodka part of Russian hockey program,” Malkin says matter-of-factly, which is all negated when the tip of his tongue pokes out between his teeth.

“Oh, really? So. Shots between periods?”

“No. On bench. Secret to best PK.”

Jamie laughs because truthfully, he can think of more than a few games where shots could have only improved team play. Malkin watches him, his dark eyes warm.

“In that case, I might have to come to Russia to train this summer.”

Malkin leans in closer. It’s friendly and appropriate but Jamie feels arousal stir in his groin. “You should. Bet you learn lots you not know,” Malkin says in a low voice that Jamie almost doesn’t catch over the drone of voices in the lobby. 

Jamie’s phone vibrates and Jamie, with difficulty, tears his gaze away from Malkin’s mouth and fishes it out of his pocket. “Hold on a sec,” Jamie says as he glances down at the banner on his lock screen. It’s from Tyler.

> _need to talk 2u TONITE._

Jamie grits his teeth. The ass. He knows Jamie is supposed to meet Sid tonight, which, of course, is the point of Tyler needing to meet him tonight, in all caps, yet. He shoves his phone back into his pocket as Malkin calls the bartender over.

“Another? Need practice. Maybe do better this time,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Uh. No.” Jamie shakes his head at the bartender in order to shoo him away. “Listen. My house is not far from here. I was going to take Sid there and since you’re taking his place, maybe —“ Jamie hopes he’s being a little more subtle than he thinks he is but Malkin seems to pick up what he’s putting down. 

“Yes,” he says with a steady gaze, wetting his full lips slowly. “We go to your house.”

_______

 

Malkin removes his shoes as soon as he comes into the house and in an effort to be a good host, Jamie does the same, even though he wouldn’t ordinarily do that. 

“Nice house,” Malkin says from behind him, as Jamie leads the way past the front room that will, one day, grow up to be an office, down the hall and to the back part of the house that sees the most use.

“This is the kitchen,” Jamie says, “well, obviously.” Jamie cringes inwardly. He sounds like a complete dork. Why is he showing Malkin his house? They’re here for a booty call and no amount of pretending is going to change that. God, if Tyler could only see him now. He’d be on the floor, laughing his ass off.

“It’s kind of all open and we use the living room as —“ Jamie comes to a stop and the rest of his words are choked off by Malkin’s long body pressing up behind him. Malkin huffs a little laugh into Jamie’s ear and then, with his hands bracketing Jamie’s hips, gently moves Jamie off to the side so he can walk around him.

Jamie tries to control his breathing. At this point, he doesn’t know if he’s turned on or he’s having a panic attack. Usually, Jamie’s the bigger guy and he’s physically in charge. And he can’t say he doesn’t love that role. But while he was in Germany, he met a center who played for Eisbären Berlin who was 6’5” and at least 240 pounds. They spent one night together and it was fucking _incredible_.  He’d shoved Jamie around and held him down and Jamie discovered something about himself that he’d never known.

He’d told Tyler about it once and after that,Tyler would do it sometimes while they were in bed — physically shoving Jamie around, being pushy and bossy. It was so good. Tyler could make him come with just — _fuck, idiot,_ Jamie tells himself, _stop thinking about Tyler._  

Malkin peers into the dining room before moving on. “You live alone?” he asks as he walks toward the wide doorway to the living room.

Jamie leans back against the kitchen island, feeling flushed and twitchy. Malkin is not actually much taller than him but he _seems_ like he is. Jamie’s also noticed that Malkin has this way of walking that’s — it’s graceful, deceptively casual. And fucking hot. Like he knows he’s the biggest, baddest dude in the room and he’s fine with that.  

“Uh,” Jamie starts, trying to stay focused, while Malkin moves into the hallway and out of his sight. “Yeah. I just moved in. My brother stays over sometimes, like if we have a late flight. We have an apartment close to the AAC. When I bought this house, I kept the apartment and he lives there now.” 

Jamie bites down on his bottom lip. He’s babbling like an idiot. He’s got no game whatsoever. Back before he and Tyler got together, Tyler used to tease Jamie for his total lack of moves. Tyler used to tease him that if not for that training camp bet, Jamie would have never made the first move and he was so right.

“Your brother d-man, right?” Malkin is moving closer.

He appears again, at the opposite end of the kitchen and starts toward Jamie. “Yeah,” Jamie says, feeling a little like he’s on automatic because he’s having trouble concentrating. Malkin has his hands in his pockets and it makes his pants pull snug across — _oh, fucking Christ._ “Uh. Yeah. Jordie. My brother.”  
   
“My brother, too. He play for my team back home. But hockey just game to him. Not like for us.”

Jamie doesn’t move but holds Malkin’s gaze as he comes closer. He stops when he’s in front of Jamie and he puts his hands on the edge of the granite, on either side of Jamie’s hips. He’s boxed in — but in the most awesome way ever.

Malkin tongue darts out over his lips before he grins down at Jamie. “We do this?” 

He starts to answer but Malkin doesn’t wait for it. He covers Jamie’s mouth with his, Jamie grabs Malkin’s hips and pulls him in close and kisses him back, with lots of tongue and a little bit of a hip check. _There,_ Jamie says in his head as he grabs Malkin’s ass, _take that, Seggy_.

 

____

 

He and Malkin make out standing up in Jamie’s kitchen for a while, Malkin pushing his cock into Jamie’s hip until Jamie can barely breathe. Malkin kisses like he plays hockey, all graceful aggression and skill. He’s totally in charge, which hits Jamie’s control kink right between the eyes and Jamie just groans and shudders while Malkin holds him against the island and sucks on Jamie’s neck. 

Jamie tries to get his hands in between them so he can get Malkin’s jeans open but Malkin shoves his hand away and switches gears, pushing and shoving Jamie into the living room, all the while sucking on Jamie’s tongue and groping Jamie’s ass.

As soon as he’s on his back on his sofa, with Malkin’s long, lean body pressed on top of him, a subtle change winds its way into his brain. Jamie starts thinking about the bet Tyler had bulldozed him into making — about Jamie and Sid and all that they might get up to on _this sofa_ — and it makes him think of Tyler. Again.

That crazy kiss they shared on the plane and how fucking hot it was and how, as good as Malkin is, that nothing is measuring up here. Suddenly, Malkin feels too heavy and he smells different, although he smells really nice and, even though he really _really_ wants to keep going, Jamie feels his erection start to fade. 

Jamie kisses Malkin back, slides his tongue into Malkin’s mouth but in his head, he’s thinking, _thanks a lot, Seggy. This is your fault._ He feels a little like he’s watching everything from a distance, detached in a way that has all the fun draining out of this moment

So he’s not terribly surprised when he feels Malkin pull back a little. The urgency in his touches seems to weaken and Jamie finds himself the subject of Malkin’s worried eyes. 

“You okay?” Malkin asks, holding himself stiff over Jamie, deep frown lines between his dark eyes, rubbing his thumbs over Jamie’s biceps where they’re exposed by his tee shirt. “Change mind?”

He doesn’t want to blow this. He has a right to have sex with whoever he wants, damn it. Tyler picks up all the time, so there’s no reason Jamie can’t do the same. Except — shit, if this doesn’t feel all wrong. Like he’s cheating on Tyler, like Jamie has just crossed a moral line and it makes him feel all kinds of shitty. Like by letting Malkin jerk him off, he’ll be violating the cosmic code of the Benns, the NHL and all of humanity. 

_Goddammit._

“I, uh.” Jamie meets Malkin’s kind eyes and he wants to blow this guy into next week, he really does. Just three minutes ago, he was down for this whole thing and now, the thought of touching someone else’s dick makes Jamie uncomfortable. _Oh, God,_ Jamie thinks to himself, _I’m such a wuss._ “I — could you give me a second?”

Before he can attempt to explain himself, Malkin closes his eyes for a moment and let’s loose with a string of soft Russian and then, he pushes himself off Jamie and sits down heavily at the end of the sofa, his head in his hands.

“Listen,” Jamie says quickly, scrambling into a sitting position and scooting closer enough to Malkin to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, “it was nothing you did. I just — lost focus there for a while. It’s not your fault.”

“No, is no good.” Malkin lowers his hands and looks at Jamie, misery obvious in his gaze. “All wrong. This whole thing a mistake.”

So that takes care of that. “Well. Of course, no problem, we don’t have to —”

Malkin shakes his head and blurts out, “Sid not have press tonight. I make up story and get your number from Nicha so you meet me instead.”

Jamie struggles to keep the shock off his face but he’s not sure he succeeds. “Ooo-kay,” Jamie says slowly, because things are suddenly awkward as hell but he can’t look away from Malkin’s horribly guilty face. “But why?“

“I find out you text Sid. I think you make move on him.” Malkin’s big, sad eyes are killing him and Jamie’s not sure he can take much more. “And Sid — I —”

Jamie recognizes the unhappiness on Malkin’s face and suddenly, he doesn’t need to hear anymore. Jamie puts his hand on Malkin’s shoulder. “I think we need more alcohol.”

Malkin’s expression turns almost hopeful. “You have vodka?”

Jamie nods solemnly. “I’ve got you covered.”

 

_______

 

 

Malkin’s eyes widen when Jamie brings out the frosted bottle with the big U on it and two glasses. 

“Nicha bring you this?”

“We call him Val but yeah. So you know him?”

“All Russians in NHL know each other. He good Chelyabinsk boy. Sergei Gonchar know family.”

Jamie widens his eyes teasingly. “You mean the rumors are true?”

“What you mean?”

“There _is_ a Russian hockey mafia?”

Malkin leans in closer. “I tell but have to kill you.”

Jamie laughs, a little surprised at how much he genuinely likes Malkin. His reputation in the league is apparently one, big smokescreen for this sweet guy.

Jamie pours them each a shot’s worth in his big water glasses and they down them and Jamie is better at it this time. But then, he puts his glass down on the table and turns toward Malkin. “I didn’t know about you and Sid. I would never have —”

The lines tighten around Malkin’s eyes as he pours himself another drink. “No. No me and Sid. I want but Sid say no. Not good for team.”

He doesn’t say it but Jamie knows Sid has a point. The proof of that is present in the Stars locker room right now. When the captain is barely speaking to one of his teammates, that’s never good. It causes unbalance, disrupts the flow like a gouge in the ice.

Malkin stares down into his glass, swirling the vodka around the bottom of his glass. “He think after hockey, I go back to Russia. No chance for us in two countries. He have hard head, don’t listen when I say I make it work. So I try forget, move on. But Sid there every day, every where. Can’t forget what we might have if he not asshole.” He downs his second drink and slams the glass on the coffee table.

Jamie can’t help but smile a little. Sid _can_ be an asshole of the highest order when it comes to hockey. “Would you go back to Russia?”

“Not permanent,” Malkin says softly, “not if I have Sid. Not easy, things dangerous in Russia for some people but if I have to make choice, I choose Sid. Always. Don’t know he not know this.” Malkin’s head comes up, alarmed. “No one know, you —“

Jamie wonders how true that is. He’s heard rumors about Sid and Malkin for years. But then, there’s been shit thrown around about all the top pairings in the NHL at one time or other, including he and Tyler. “I won’t tell. And just so you know you can trust me, I’ll tell you something about me.” Jamie swallows before he blurts it out. If Malkin can do it, he can do it. “I’m — my liney and me —”

Malkin makes a sympathetic noise. “He turn you down?”

Jamie slouches down lower on the sofa cushions. “Worse than that. We’ve been together since training camp but he just wants to be casual. And it makes me crazy.”

“This Seguin you talk about?”

“Yeah.”

Malkin gives him a bump with his shoulder. “He stupid. Pretty but stupid.”

Jamie smiles his agreement but he can’t hold it for long. “I’ve been avoiding him for the last couple of weeks but I’m going to have to tell him, straight up, that I’m done. I shouldn’t have started this in the first place. I’m the captain,” he admits quietly. “I should have known better.”

“Now, you stupid,” Malkin says, putting his hand on Jamie’s thigh and giving it a squeeze when Jamie tries to speak. “Captain need life, too. Should Captain have chance to be happy?”

“I wish it were that easy, Malkin.”

Malkin gives him a smirk in return. “Hey. Had your tongue in my mouth. You call me Geno.” Jamie can feel himself blush but that, too, is short-lived. “But you still stupid. Sid say same thing. But why you and Sid want easy? You not know how to fight?”

Jamie peers at Malkin — _Geno_ — closely. “Maybe you should take your own advice. You’re one of the better fighters in the league. Not even Sidney Crosby can beat you.”

Geno’s grin turns shy and shrugs his shoulders. “Guess I not think about it like that.”

Jamie catches a glimpse of the clock on the mantle and puts his hand over Geno’s where it’s still resting on Jamie’s thigh. “I should get you back to the hotel now. Not all of us have the night off tomorrow,” he says with a teasing smile.

“Yes, you lucky,” Geno says as they stand. “Don’t have to worry about me make your goalie look bad.”

Jamie elbows past him and gets a shove from behind. “We don’t worry about that anyway.”

“Ha.”

“No, you ha,” Jamie says. He sort of wishes Geno could hang around longer. He never imagined that his first clumsy attempt at a cheap thrill could turn into a relationship support group but damned, if he hasn’t enjoyed himself.

Jamie detours into the kitchen and grabs two bottles of water from the fridge. He hands one to Geno and they lean against his kitchen counter while they down every drop. Jamie grabs the empty bottles and tosses them into the trash compactor and before they walk out, Geno takes him by the arm, holding him in place.

“Hey,” he says softly, “I leave mark on you.” Jamie stands still when Geno touches his fingertips to the side of his neck and rubs it gently, making Jamie’s skin prickle with renewed, and slightly conflicting, arousal. “Sorry we not finish what we start.”

Jamie grins at him. “It was fun while it lasted, yeah?”

Geno lowers his head and then, they’re kissing again, not the full-on, porn stuff from earlier but something sweet and warm, with both Geno’s big hands cupped around Jamie’s face. Jamie closes his eyes and lets himself lean into Geno’s tall body and enjoy it, just for a little while —

Before he can really comprehend what’s happening, Jamie is shoved back against the counter and Tyler has his hand on Jamie’s chest, holding him there.

“What the fuck is this?” Tyler’s face is twisted with outrage, looking back and forth between him and Geno, holding the front of Jamie’s tee shirt with a death grip.

Jamie pushes at Tyler’s hand until he lets go. “Tyler, what the hell? How did you get in?”

Tyler’s still staring hotly at Geno. “The front door was unlocked, how the fuck else? What’s _he_ doing here?”

Geno’s lovely, wide mouth curves into a smirk and Jamie has only a second to think, _oh, shit_.

“I’m kiss your boyfriend, that what I do,” Geno says tauntingly.

Jamie expects two things to happen in quick succession; that Tyler will deny that Jamie is his boyfriend and that Tyler will take a very ill-advised swing at Evgeni Malkin. But the first one doesn’t happen and its only due to a pretty impressive move on Jamie’s part that the second is prevented.“Tyler, stop,” Jamie demands, holding Tyler back with his forearm against Tyler’s chest. “Have you lost it?”

“No, but I’m about to.” In two years, Jamie has never seen Tyler so mad. 

“What you’re about to do is embarrass yourself.” Jamie gives Tyler a shove that knocks him back against the edge of the counter. “This is none of your business. Get out.” Then, with a little more confidence that he really feels, Jamie turns to Geno and grabs his hand. “Come on, let’s go.” Geno grins at him and lets Jamie lead him out of the kitchen and toward the front door.

“God _dammit_ , Jamie.”

“Tyler, go home.”

They sit on the padded bench in the foyer and slip their shoes back on and Tyler paces between the walls, like a puck ping ponging off the boards. “Well, thank fuck I got here after you put your fucking clothes back on.”

Jamie looks at Geno with silent apology. “One day, we’ll look back on this and laugh.”

Geno frowns doubtfully. “Maybe long time.”

“Quit talking to each other. Am I going to get an explanation here or not?”

“Not,” Jamie says, picking up the Stars cap that was on the bench and putting it on his head backwards. “We’re leaving and so are you.”

“But —“ Tyler sputters.

Geno looks at Tyler and shakes his head. “Seguin, you stupid,” he says in that deep voice of his and Tyler bristles and steps close enough to nearly bump Geno and for a second, Jamie thinks he’s going to have to separate them again.

“Stupid, like Sid.” Geno continues and Jamie recognizes that resignation in his words, in his posture. He’s all too familiar with it. “You not know what right in front of you.” 

Jamie catches himself with his mouth open as Geno walks out his front door.

“Well?” Tyler asks snappishly.

It shakes Jamie out of his daze and he gives Tyler his best look of disgust before following Geno to the door. “I’m taking him back to the hotel.”

“Call him a cab.”

“Shut up,” Jamie says and he stands at the open front door. “Come on. Out of my house.”

Tyler stands there for a few seconds, like he’s going to make a stand but with a vicious glare, he walks out. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here when I get back, yeah?” Jamie says as he locks the front door.

“Well, maybe I won’t!”

“Good.” Jamie hits the auto door opener on his truck.

“ _Fine_ ”. Tyler stalks off to his Jeep at the curb and peels out into the darkness.

Geno gets into the passenger side of Jamie’s truck and lets out a huge sigh after he shuts the door. “I should have stay in Pittsburgh. This town make people crazy.”

“Yeah,” Jamie replies grimly, roughly throwing the truck in gear and backing it out into the street. 

“Worse than Philly, I think.”

Geno has one hand resting on the console between them, fingers drumming restlessly. “What are you going to tell Sid?” Jamie asks, although he’s not sure he wants to know the answer. But if they need to create a story, now’s the time to do it.

“Don’t know.” Geno says, his gaze thoughtfully straight ahead, “Either he wait for me in hotel or we not ever speak again.” He gives Jamie a joyless smile. “Not easy play hockey and not talk but I guess I can do it.”

Jamie’s street is pretty quiet, even during the day but it’s dead still now and there’s plenty time for Jamie to stop at the first stop sign and do some quick personal reflection. “Look, I’m sorry about all this. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have contacted Sid.”

“Why not? He your friend,” Geno says defensively, but he’s defensive on Jamie’s behalf and that’s really kinda sweet. He’s not sure what he expected when he spotted Geno at the bar tonight but it’s not this. His nickname is The Bully, for fuck’s sake, but this guy — Jamie still thinks sweet is the right word. 

“Still, I should have —“

“No. I get jealous, blow this thing up,” Geno says with resignation. “Is my fault.”

Jamie shifts sideways, so he’s facing Geno. “Sid doesn’t have to know. We could — I don’t know — make something up.”

Geno shakes his head. “I see Flower at hotel, when we have our drink.”

Jamie grimaces. “You did?”

“He very sneaky. Hide around corner when we leave. He tell Sid, use for joke.”

Jamie frowns. He really feels bad for the guy. At least, Jamie walked into his shit show with Tyler with both eyes open. With Geno and Sid, its clear that not only were they blindfolded, but they both wandered into a tunnel and got slammed by a Zamboni. 

The only good thing that’s come of this night is that he and Geno are in this together. Jamie sure as fuck wouldn’t want Geno for an enemy, that’s for sure. Dude can play dirty, as Jamie found out tonight. As for Tyler and Sid, Jamie doesn’t know if he’ll ever talk to either of them after tonight. 

“Hey,” Geno murmurs and Jamie turns his head to see him smile, a little sad and a little goofy. “You nice guy. I see why Sid like you.”

Jamie laughs self-consciously and after a small, quiet freak out, he starts driving again.

“You know, that,” Geno says, brushing a fingertip over the mark on Jamie’s neck, “gonna show on the ice. Sorry.”

Jamie brushes his fingertips over the tender skin on his neck. He wants to study it once he gets home. It’s almost like a battle scar, considering all he went through to get it. He’s been so careful for so long. Before, he’d made sure that nothing got too serious and he kept away from even a hint of drama. Then Tyler blew into his life and he had to close his true feelings away in a box with the lid slammed shut.

Tonight, though. He can have one fucking night to lose his damn mind. Jamie grins at Geno. “You know what? Fuck ‘em. Let everyone get a good look.” 

Geno smiles but he seems a little worried. “ _Da._ Fuck’em,” he says and pats Jamie on the shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyler and Jamie at Sundance Square in Ft. Worth - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vRRQAiAnxac


	4. Chapter 4

Tyler is there when Jamie returns home. Just standing there, in the driveway, in his headlights. His front yard has never seen so much action.

“Fuck, maybe I need to get some chairs out here,” Jamie says wearily as he opens the front door again. It feels like hours since he’d arrived here with Malkin when really, it had been less than two. 

Even so, this night has already been way more crazy and drama-filled than he had ever pictured when he contacted Sid weeks ago. He‘d figured a beer with two old friends and, just maybe, if he played his cards right, a quick hand job with one of those friends, followed by a good night’s sleep. Instead, Jamie’s starring in an after-hours episode of The Young and The Restless.

Jamie walks inside and keeps going through to his bedroom, flipping on the light near the door as he passes through the doorway. He can hear Tyler follow him across the rug but he’s just too tired to care. 

“Look,” Jamie starts, tossing his hat onto the mattress and turning to face Tyler. “I don’t know what you’re about to say but you can just shut it. We have a game tomorrow so whatever it is can wait for—“

“No, _you_ shut it.”

Tyler stands in front of him, Tyler’s arms crossed, his biceps bulging, his expression locked down. Jamie never knows what the hell Tyler’s thinking; it’s always been the worst part of being involved with Tyler.

But Tyler rarely does serious, not for as long as Jamie’s known him. He deflects all solemn conversation with a chirp or a wink and because it’s Tyler, he gets away with it. Now, he’s not only serious but he’s seriously _pissed_ and he’s got a death glare thing going on and Jamie backs up until he’s sitting on the side of his bed because wow, this is different. 

“That,” Tyler spits out that single word, like it leaves a bad taste in this mouth, “is never going to happen again.” 

“That?” 

“Bringing home random people. I mean, what the actual fuck?”

Jamie can’t believe the words coming out of Tyler’s mouth. “Okay, I think there’s seriously something wrong with you right now,” Jamie says with a sneer, throwing his own words back at Tyler. “You’ve got no say in who I sleep with.”

Tyler lets his arms fall to his sides. “Seriously, I’m about to punch you, man.”

“I doubt it. Besides,” Jamie points out with a glare, “Geno is hardly random.”

For a second, he thinks Tyler might lunge at him. “Oh, it’s Geno, now, is it? Did you know you’ve got a hickey on your neck the size of — like, a spleen?”

“Yeah. So?” Jamie asks lazily.

“What happened to Crosby? He bail on you?” Tyler asks and Jamie can tell he’s a little smug about it. 

In return, Jamie moves up on the mattress so he’s propped up against the headboard and he smirks at him. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He can see Tyler’s hands curl into fists. “If you do something so stupid again, I’ll — I —“

“You’ll what?” His pulse suddenly racing, in direct contradiction to the exhaustion he was feeling when he walked in. “You want to start making rules now? I thought we had an understanding when we started this thing that there were no rules. No restrictions. Wasn’t that the deal?”

Tyler’s lips curl nastily. “Yeah, well, the deal _sucks_.”

Jamie toes off his shoes and kicks them off the bed with irritation. “It only sucks because you’re getting a taste of your own medicine.”“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not stupid, you know what it means.” Jamie sits up straighter. “You hook up with whoever you want but I’m supposed to be celibate?”

“I never told you not to —“

“No, but apparently, that’s the deal now, right? The one time I bring someone home and you fucking _stalk_ me and lose your mind? What the hell, Tyler?”

“Look, just shut up about the deal, okay?” Tyler rubs the back of his neck and he looks everywhere _but_ at Jamie. “There wasn’t a deal. We made that bet and then — it changed. I thought — I don’t know what happened.”

“Well, me, either. I don’t know what it was but I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore and you need to leave.” As soon as the words are out, there’s a tickle in the back of his throat, an urge to take it back, to blow everything off like a joke. Jamie liked this — this break up or whatever the hell — better when he was the only one who knew about it. 

But saying it out loud, to Tyler, makes everything more real, more permanent and panic starts to rattle through his veins.

But it’s too late. All of Tyler’s earlier bravado and anger is gone and he looks off balance, as though he finally understands. 

“You don’t want me anymore,” Tyler says, his voice as flat as his expression. “That’s what you’re saying?”

Jamie rubs his knuckles between his eyes, where a hell of a headache is beginning.  
It would be easier for him to just agree and put an end to it all. But Jamie decided to be truthful with Tyler and he can’t stop now. “No. That’s not it.”

Tyler’s face goes ice cold. “So there _is_ someone else. You fucking liar, I asked you —”

“Shut up, idiot. I haven’t been with anyone else. You asked me what’s wrong and this is it. I’m done picking up randoms and I don’t want to be your fuck buddy. Okay? There. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Crystal. So why the hell didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“Because I —“ Jamie has to force himself to keep going. “I wasn’t ready to admit that we’re just teammates. That that’s all I am to you.”

However Jamie might have expected Tyler to react, it’s not this. He looks almost amused, the previous angry lines in his face smoothed away. “Is that right? Well, sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Jameson. Which, of course, was your first mistake.”

“Hey, if you want to make a joke of all this —“

“What else can I do when you say dumb shit like that?”

“Fuck you, Tyler. You can suck it.”

“Well, apparently, I can’t. So you don’t want me. Message received. What the hell _do_ you want?” 

“I want —“Jamie pauses because he knows what he wants, in his head, but he’s never said it out loud. He’s pretty sure no one ever asked. “I want — someone I can depend on, who is loyal to me. That I can count on when things go to shit.”

Tyler’s expression softens minutely. “But you’ve got that.”

Jamie glares up at him. “Someone who thinks I’m enough. Who can’t be distracted by a set of big tits or ripped abs.”

Tyler throws his hands up in the air in a move of frustration. “You’ve got that, too.” 

Jamie laughs but it’s far from funny. “Jesus, Tyler, don’t lie to me now. I know you’ve been with other people.”

His answer comes with surprising softness. “No one since before Christmas. Since before Thanksgiving.”

“American or Canadian?” Jamie asks sarcastically.

“Either. Both. Fuck, Jamie — I know you’re from BC so allowances have to be made. But are you really that dumb that you haven’t figured me out?”

“No,” Jamie answers immediately. “You’re a complete mystery to me.”

Tyler starts to say something, but instead, his expression softens and he walks over to the bed, slowly taking a seat on the side of the bed, near Jamie. Jamie doesn’t take a breath, doesn’t move. He has no fucking idea what’s coming next.

“I’m shit at this kind of thing,” Tyler says, his voice low and rough, his gaze down. “Relationships and all that. Having fun and feeling good, that’s been the goal. I never wanted to get tied down.”

Jamie wraps the hem of his tee shirt around his finger, thinking about the Playmate Tyler had been rumored to be involved with in Boston and hadn’t there been a Patriot in the mix somewhere? That didn’t count? 

“I thought, one day, when I’m older, it will happen. I’ll meet somebody and everything will fall into place. Only it didn’t happen that way.”

He freezes then because what the fuck? It’s all Jamie can do to keep from bolting. What’s happening here? Has Tyler found someone? Did he get someone pregnant? Is Tyler trying to let him down easy? 

He must sense Jamie’s discomfort because he grins a little. “Because then, I came to Dallas. And I sure as fuck never expected you.”

Jamie almost looks around to see if someone else walked into the room and Tyler is talking to them. And Tyler notices, of course, and puts his hand high on Jamie’s thigh, squeezing lightly.

“This vibe between us — it just never let me alone. I knew where you were all the time — on the ice, in the room. When you weren’t with me, I was thinking about you.”

Jamie can barely absorb Tyler’s words, he’s so surprised. He’d never guessed that Tyler’s feelings even approached what he’s describing. 

“And then, that stupid bet,” Tyler says, his gaze steady, “I thought we could get it out of our systems, so we could move on. But yeah, that didn’t work.” 

He jumps a little when Tyler picks up his left hand and holds it in both of his. He’s so aware of the solid heat of Tyler’s body, his clean scent, that he’s having trouble concentrating. Tyler strokes his thumb over Jamie’s knuckles and Jamie feels his body come alive, his cock stirring. Tyler has always had that power over him and he still does.

“Sorry I had a fit tonight,” he mumbles, so softly Jamie almost misses it. He looks so miserable that Jamie buys his apology 100 percent.

“It’s okay.”

“Did you — you don’t have to tell me but you and Malkin — ?”

Jamie waits a couple of seconds. “You’re right, I don’t have to tell you.” 

Tyler swallows hard but he nods. “Okay. I get it.”

“But I didn’t sleep with him,” he answers softly. 

Tyler releases a heavy sigh, his big shoulders slumping a little. “Thinking you were going to hook up with Crosby was bad enough. But when I saw you with Malkin? I wanted to kill him.” He gives Jamie a pained smile. “And you, too, for a little while there. So, when you took him back to the hotel, I knew then —I have to fix this or I’m going to lose him.”

Jamie stares, the words slogging through his brain, like Tyler just lapsed into Russian. He’s touching Jamie’s hand with both of his, fondling it, really and he can’t fucking think straight. “Lose — _me_?” 

Tyler rolls his eyes. “No, Malkin. Yes, you.” He looks like he’s totally serious. “I don’t want you seeing anybody else. I don’t want to lose you, Jameson.”

“Are you fucking with me now?” Jamie asks, yanking his hand free, almost angry. “Is this a prank? Because if it is —“

Tyler’s eyes widen and he straightens, like he’s just been issued a challenge. “Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” Tyler says and this time, he pushes at Jamie, forcing him sideways onto the mattress and climbs on top of him. Before Jamie can even react, Tyler kisses him, with force and intent, a _promise_ that dives down into Jamie’s bones and takes hold. This isn’t like before, their pre-sex make outs or that crazy kiss on the plane. This is _real_. It’s what he’s been waiting for.

Jamie wraps his arms around Tyler, pulling him in. “God, I can’t believe this,” Jamie mutters, his heart so full of tenderness for Tyler. After all this time - all the longing and the pining and the hopelessness — he gets to have this? “You mean it?”

“You’re enough for me, more than enough and just right. What do I have to do to get you to believe that?”

Jamie laughs a little and shivers when Tyler rubs his stubble against Jamie’s and nips Jamie’s ear lobe. “Well, this is a pretty good start,” he says, giving Tyler’s ass a squeeze.

“You moron,” Tyler says quietly, rubbing his thumb lightly over Jamie’s bottom lip. “Why do you think I made that bet in the first place? And why do you think I made you go first? I was going to lose no matter how many you did.”

“You fixed your own bet?” Jamie had thought so in the beginning but after months passed, he lost hope.

“Hell, yeah, I did. If it gave me even half a chance of being able to get my hands on you, I was going to take it.”

“God, Tyler,” Jamie says in a near whisper against Tyler’s mouth. Tyler’s lips part beneath his and Jamie slips his fingers into Tyler’s soft curls to keep him close while the kiss deepens. Tyler’s hips start to move restlessly and Jamie shifts up and then, Tyler is on his back, looking up at Jamie with such tenderness that Jamie can barely breathe.

Their kisses quickly turn more greedy, Tyler’s body arching up, Jamie grinding his hips down, each of them struggling for breath, both so impatient for each other. They’re still kissing when Jamie reaches for the bottom of Tyler’s tee shirt and starts to pull it off. 

They work themselves out of their clothes, still touching, their mouths still pressed to the abundance of skin that’s revealed with each discard. Tyler laps at Jamie’s nipples and Jamie gasps and shakes as he unfastens his jeans and squirms out of them. 

Finally, he and Tyler are skin on skin, rubbing together, striking sparks off each other with every movement. And it occurs to Jamie, that he’s never really make love to anyone, not when it was reciprocated, not like this, not with this passion, this intensity. Not without all these feelings clashing into each other in perfect synchronicity, like it was meant to be. Tyler’s calloused hands stroke over Jamie’s body, with passion and skill while he murmurs softly to him and it’s all that Jamie ever imagined it would be.

Jamie stops kissing Tyler only long enough to grab the lube out of the drawer in his bedside table. He doesn’t bother with a condom because according to Tyler, he’s only been with Jamie and Jamie sure as fuck has only been with Tyler for months and when Jamie presses one finger, then two, then three into Tyler, the way Tyler’s body arches up, the way Tyler groans makes Jamie have to employ every ounce of control he’s got. He wants to thrust hard into Tyler’s amazing body but he waits, waits until he can feel Tyler tremble like he’s coming apart.

“Fuck, Jamie, I want you so much.” He sounds breathless, his voice strained like he’s having trouble with the effort, his eyes dark with need. “Wanted this — so long — I’ve wanted _you_ , just you —“ 

Jamie shudders and shoves Tyler up on the mattress so he can get at him better. He kisses his way down Tyler’s amazing body, over his nipples, nuzzling up against the delicious swell of his delts. He runs the flat of his tongue over the words Stanley Cup Champion where it’s inked over Tyler’s ribs. Tyler sighs and Jamie can feel him shiver beneath him.

Jamie lifts both Tyler’s legs up so that they’re clamped around Jamie’s hips and rubs the slick head of his dick into the crease between Tyler’s ass cheeks. Tyler holds on to him, his moist breath in Jamie’s ear.

“Oh, fuck, yeah, do it, Jame, come on, fuck me,” Tyler breathes out and Jamie shoves his dick into Tyler in one push and he can’t stop, moving steadily, smoothly until Tyler is shooting in between their bodies, without being touched. And Jamie is helpless to stop his own orgasm shortly after, his heart racing as he pounds into Tyler, unable to take a breath until he’s spent, helpless, spread out on top of Tyler, both of them coiled around each other. “I love you,” Jamie whispers against Tyler’s ear, hot and dizzy with the power of actually, _finally_ admitting it out loud, “I love you so much.”

Tyler laughs breathlessly against Jamie’s neck. “You’re such a sap,” Tyler says, licking a hot stripe against Jamie’s neck and Jamie doesn’t even care if Tyler says it or not. Tyler presses kisses to Jamie’s neck and face, over and over again and it’s every bit as good as hearing the words.

Jamie isn’t quite able to suppress the shiver that overtakes him in the aftermath and he shifts over a little, so that he isn’t on top of Tyler anymore, but he doesn’t let go of him. He’s not ever going to let go.

“Seggy,” Jamie whispers softly, so content and happy that he’s almost drunk with the feeling, “my Seggy.”

Tyler nuzzles him, making happy noises, running his hands over every inch of Jamie’s skin that he can reach.

Jamie’s arms are full of Tyler and in just a couple of minutes, he’s on the edge of what he’s sure is going to be a very satisfying sleep when one question starts to nag at him.

“Hey, Seggy?”

Tyler rests his head on Jamie’s shoulder. “Hmmm?”

“You said you haven’t been with anyone but me since October?”

“Uh huh.”

“But —“ Jamie hesitates. Does he really want to open this can of worms? _Now?_ “I saw you,” Jamie whispers, even while he runs his hands down Tyler’s back, reveling in the warmth of Tyler’s skin. “You were picking up when we went out. Just a month ago.” Of course, every time Jamie saw Tyler start to work his magic, he’d make for the nearest exit. He didn’t want to watch. He _wouldn’t_ watch.

“Hey.” Tyler lifts up on his side, so he can look directly at Jamie. “Everything you saw. That was as far as it went.”

“But—“

“Drinks, dancing. Just to keep up the rep. I did make out with a couple of people a few weeks after our bet, just to try and prove to myself I could still do it. But all I proved is that I only want you.”

“Yeah?” Jamie asks softly. 

“Yeah.” Tyler’s gaze is so tender, Jamie can hardly breathe at the sight of it. “So. Looks like you’ve ruined me, Jameson. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

Jamie hooks his arm around Tyler’s neck and pulls him down, holding him as tight as he can.

 

 

____________

 

He almost never sleeps over with anyone and he’s certainly never had anyone stay over at his house. But when Jamie wakes up with Tyler’s arm around his waist and the strong beat of Tyler’s heart against his back, Jamie knows it’s definitely something he could get used to it. 

There are a few minutes to spare before the alarm goes off and Jamie spends it with his eyes closed, letting the warm memories wash over him in a steady stream, until Tyler shifts in his sleep and pulls Jamie in.

“Go back to sleep,” Tyler mutters against Jamie’s neck, his breath fanning moist heat across his skin.

Jamie covers Tyler’s hand where it rests on his belly. “Alarm goes off in four minutes.”

When Tyler groans his disappointment, Jamie turns onto his other side and pulls Tyler against him. Tyler nuzzles him and their morning erections brush against each other. 

“This is the first time we’ve spent the night together,” Jamie murmurs into Tyler’s shoulder, right over his 5.3.1 tattoo. He presses a kiss there while he’s at it and Tyler sighs.

“”S nice,” Tyler says, sounding barely awake, even as he pushes his hips forward against Jamie’s.

Jamie curves his arm tighter around Tyler’s waist. “Real nice,” he says hoarsely, pushing Tyler onto his back.

 

________

 

“Do you think we should tell everybody?” Jamie asks later, as he’s driving them to the AAC.

“Jameson, I’m surprised at you. I never took you for the kiss-and-tell type.”

Jamie turns his head, meaning to give him a few choice words and Tyler snaps a photo with his phone.“Dude, don’t Instagram that.”

Tyler doesn’t glance up from his phone, typing furiously. “Oh, too late, it’s done.”

“What’s the caption?” Jamie would like very much to be annoyed but he can’t help but smile. He can’t believe how much he loves this idiot.

“You’ll see,” Tyler says with a mysterious grin, reaching over to flick Jamie’s earlobe.

“Did you even hear my question?”

Tyler puts his phone down on the console and shrugs. “We shouldn’t overthink this. The boys already know we’re tight. And unless you’re planning on blowing me in the locker room —which I wouldn’t object to, by the way — I think we’re cool just doing what we do.”

And everything _is_ cool. They walk into the room together, like they’ve done hundreds of times before. Jordie tries to mess up Tyler’s hair and they start chirping each other and everybody takes sides. It’s just like any other game day morning skate until Jamie starts undressing and getting into his gear. 

“Whoa, dude, what got hold of you last night?” 

Jamie freezes when he hears Spezz’s voice behind him. 

“Nah,” Daddy says, taking Jamie by the arm and turning him so that the whole locker room can see the hickey on his neck and the fingertip shaped bruises Tyler left on his side. “The question is _who_ got hold of you last night?”

The boys start to whistle and whoop it up and probably, he should be a little more discreet but suddenly, Jamie can’t keep the smile off his face. Almost all his fantasies, except for maybe one or two of the kinkier ones, were wiped off his list in the last 24 hours so he’s feeling smug as hell today. Evgeni Malkin and Tyler Seguin in the same day? If his teammates only knew.

Jamie shoves at Daddy. “Get away from me, you freak. You’re just jealous because you haven’t gotten laid since you moved to Dallas.”

“Fuck you, I get laid constantly. Repeatedly,” Daddy protests with a big grin.

“Quit bragging,” Jordie says with an identical grin and the whole room erupts into laughter, dispersing to continue getting ready for practice.

“Hey, hey.” Jamie turns around as Tyler leaves his stall and comes up to them, staring pointedly at Daddy’s hand, still around Jamie’s bicep. “Hands off the merchandise there, bud.”

Daddy grins wickedly at Jamie but immediately puts both his hands in the air, like a victim of an armed robbery and backs away. “Not a problem, not a problem.”

“Real subtle, Seggy,” Jamie says under his breath when everyone goes back to getting geared up.

Tyler winks at him. “If anyone else gets handsy, you let me know.”

“Sure thing, tough guy,” Jamie says with a smile.

After that, Jamie’s focus is on the game. After morning skate, he and Tyler go back home, have a post-orgasm nap and head back to the arena in the afternoon as usual. And he actually forgets all about Sid and Geno. That is, until he goes out on the ice for the pregame skate and holy shit, there’s Sid, skating past at a decent clip before he stops to stretch out his hamstrings, almost on top of the red line. 

Jamie takes several turns around their end of the ice because that’s his habit but on his third or fourth pass, Sid is up and watching him, telegraphing his fury loud and clear. _Well_ , Jamie thinks as he slows down and skates over, _might as well get this over with._

Jamie tries to smile but it feels pretty twitchy. “Hey, bro. How’s it going?”

Sid wears a helmet in warms up and Jamie doesn’t so when Sid leans in, his visor almost touches Jamie’s chin. “Don’t ‘hey bro’ me.”

Jamie blinks rapidly. Okay, so this _is_ happening now. But hey, his mom raised him right and Jamie starts to offer an earnest apology for everything. But at the last second, he stops.

The memory of Geno brazenly telling Tyler that he just kissed Tyler’s boyfriend and letting Jamie take his hand as they walked out together makes him take a breath. Geno was responsible for making Tyler insane enough to finally cross that last line. So how could Jamie not return the favor? 

“Is something wrong, Sid?” Jamie asks mildly and Sid looks like he’s going to shoot off like a rocket.

“You just —“ Sid’s so mad, he’s struggling to get the words out. “ — go and pick up Geno at a bar? What’s the matter with you?”

Letang starts circling near them, obviously picking up on Sid’s body language and Jamie keeps one eye on him because Letang can and will fuck a guy up in two seconds flat.

Jamie smiles because after all, the cameras are watching. “What’s the problem? You and Geno aren’t together. He told me so.”

Sid’s eyes go a little crazy. “Don’t fucking say his name.”

Jamie makes sure his gaze doesn’t waver from Sid’s. “I said his name plenty last night,” Jamie says quietly.

“You asshole,” Sid says again, this time with even more hostility, his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. “You sorry motherfucker.”

Letang stops. “What’s up, boys?” he asks with a slight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and it doesn’t fool Jamie for a second. He’s given smiles like that, too — right before he drops his gloves.

Jamie braces himself just in case because it’s possible that Sid is on the verge of an aneurysm. He’s not sure if he’s ever seen a full-on fight during warmup in the NHL and Jamie sure as hell doesn’t want to be in the first and not with Sidney Crosby.

And just when Jamie is sure it’s going to go down, Sid stiffens and leans away from Jamie. “Nothing,” Sid spits out. “Let’s warm up.” Sid skates away and after giving Jamie a frown, Letang follows him.

He doesn’t get a chance to talk to Tyler until they’re lined up on the ice for the National Anthem. “Oh, man, Sid’s pissed,” Jamie says out of the side of his mouth as Celena Ray starts doing her thing.

Tyler keeps his head down, moving his skates restlessly. 

“I saw.”

“I mean, _really_ pissed.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get.”

“I actually thought he was gonna punch me,” Jamie says with increasing volume because Tyler is just not getting it. All Jamie’s asking for is a little sympathy and Tyler is giving him nothing. 

“Well, what did you expect?”

A cameraman comes in for a close-up on Jamie and he adopts his usual, blank expression until he moves on down their line.

“Sid can’t fight for shit,” Jamie hisses under his breath. “What am I supposed to do if he wants to go?”

Tyler holds his tongue until the end of the Anthem and the lights come up. Then, he turns to Jamie with an I-told-you-so stare. “You’re on your own, sweet pea,” he says over the crowd’s cheers, giving Jamie a slap on the ass that feels twice as enthusiastic as necessary before skating off to take his position for the start of the game.

“Thanks a lot,” Jamie yells after him. Eaks and Sid are taking the face off and as Jamie settles into place, Sid’s hot glare follows him all the way until just before the puck drops.  
___

 

The first period is uneventful except for when Curts gets into it with Letang with nine seconds left. In the second, Dallas finally gets two in the back of the net — Ritchie scores within the first three minutes and then Jamie catches his own rebound and scores a minute and a half later. At the 6:34 mark, Letang gets in a wrister off on a power play.

When they go into the locker room after the second, the mood is cautiously upbeat. They’ve only got a one goal lead but their defense has been solid, keeping the Pens to the outside. Sid delivers a couple of pretty rough checks on Jamie but nothing dirty. Lindy reminds everyone there’s twenty minutes left, something that the Stars have often forgotten this season.

Jamie strips off his sweater on the way to take a leak and afterward, while he’s leaning over the sink, splashing water over his face and his neck, Tyler comes up beside him to do the same thing.

“Way to stay alive out there.”

Jamie slurps up a handful of water. “No thanks to you.”

Tyler laughs. “What do you want from me? I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

“I get all the funny guys on my line,” Jamie says with a glare. He’s not really mad at Tyler but he’s more than ready to get both the game and the drama behind both of them.

Tyler straightens up and pretends to make an adjustment to Jamie’s shoulder pads. “Just twenty more minutes, Jameson,” he says, “then I’m all yours.” Tyler shakes head vigorously, sending water flying at Jamie’s face and he walks away.

“Oh, my God,” Jamie mutters, leaning heavily against the porcelain. He just got propositioned by his center in the middle of a game. And really, today, it makes a weird kind of sense. 

As the third progresses, the Pens start to play with more desperation, getting sloppy with their shots. Sid doesn’t have a single shot on goal and the whole team is growing more frustrated as Dallas’s D tightens up and Kari stops everything they shoot at him. 

Then, with ten minutes left, it all goes to hell. 

Sid loses a face-off against Fidds and less than a minute later, Joki draws a holding penalty on him and Sid shoves him off after the whistle with enough force that Joki has to pinwheel his arms to keep his balance. Then, Sid loses his next three face offs —Eaks, Horcs and Spezz all beat him.

With six minutes left, Kari stops a shot from Ehrhoff and the first line goes out on the ice and Jamie skates up for the face off. Opposite Sid.

Sid’s eyes burn into Jamie’s as the ref holds up the puck. Jamie stares back because maybe he had a hand in this whole mess but there’s still a game to win. And if Sid wants to lose his mind and as a result, lose the two points, then Jamie is going to let him. This is probably his last face off so Jamie almost relaxes a little.

And that’s when he sees Sid’s gaze drop — to the dark mark on his neck. 

The puck drops and Jamie goes for it, swiping his stick across the ice and he hits the solid barrier of Sid’s stick. He’s not sure who wins the face-off or where the puck goes after that because Sid’s right glove connects with the left side of his head and instinct takes over. Jamie grabs for Sid’s sweater hoping to hold him off without losing face before the entirety of the NHL but just as his brain registers the level of the crowd noise rising, Sid drops his gloves and connects with a lightning fast right that knocks his bucket off, followed by a wicked left that lands square in Jamie’s eye and after that, Jamie has no choice but to go. 

He throws his gloves to the ice and he grabs Sid’s sweater. “Sid, back the fuck off,” Jamie says but Sid is snarling and spewing utter filth at him and Jamie hears the crowd going nuts and he can almost picture the You Tube version of this shit show. Jamie yanks down on his sweater and lands a punch on Sid’s chin that momentarily knocks him off balance. But Sid comes right back, twisting violently against Jamie’s arms-length hold and forcing them both down on the ice. 

The refs finally intervene and St. Pierre and one of the linesmen start working on pulling them apart. “You mother fucking bastard piece of shit cocksucker,” Sid spits out, getting down in his face while trying to break out of the ref’s hold and Jamie’s attempts to push him off. “Stay the fuck away from him or I’ll end you.”

Over Sid’s shoulder, Jamie exchanges looks with St. Pierre, who appears completely blown away by the words coming out of Sid the Kid’s mouth. After a struggle, they manage to peel Sid off him and St. Pierre sends both of them to the box for a five minute misconduct. And by the time, they come out, there is less than a minute left and Dallas gets the two points.

 

_____

 

Jamie leaves the AAC with a swollen eye, a cold pac and Tyler. Jordie offers to drive him home but Tyler waves him off.

“I got this,” Tyler tells him, slinging his arm around Jamie’s shoulder in a move that’s just bumping the outer edge of bros. Jordie gives Jamie a questioning look and when Jamie just smiles back, Jordie lets them pass, giving Tyler a fist bump as he does. 

Tyler takes Jamie’s keys and puts his hand on Jamie’s thigh before they even leave the parking garage. He leaves it there most of the way home.

“We’ll go to mine, yeah? Let the dogs out?”

“Sure,” Jamie answers and after a beat or two, he puts his hand over Tyler’s, letting it rest there lightly, because he’s allowed now. Tyler grins at him and Jamie exhales as silently as he can. He’s still not quite sure he isn’t dreaming all this. 

“Need any stops before we get there?”

Jamie turns his head, gazing at Tyler, at the gorgeous curves of his face, at his big, capable hand on the wheel. “No,” Jamie says softly, “I’m good.”

The dogs greet them with some saliva and vicious tail wagging but they spring out the back door as soon as Tyler opens it. Then, Tyler turns toward him with a soft smile. He backs Jamie onto the sofa and they make out for a while, with slow kisses and drowsy touches that are far too lethargic to inspire either of them to take it further. 

He and Tyler, lying together on their sides, kissing and touching seems a pretty top-shelf way for Jamie to end this insane day. Even after everything, he can’t believe this is really happening, that he and Tyler Seguin are an actual _thing_. It’s pretty much all Jamie has ever wanted. Well. That, and a Stanley Cup or three.

“I’d really love to have sex with you right now,” Jamie says against Tyler’s mouth, in mid-kiss, “but getting punched in the face really takes it out of me.” He’s exhausted, his head aches and his eye is nearly swelled shut but when Tyler licks into Jamie’s mouth once more, Jamie emits a soft groan that is made of pure contentment. 

“I’ll catch ya later,” Tyler whispers, giving Jamie one more kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, he reaches behind Jamie’s back for something. “Besides,” he says with a playful glint in his eye, “you need to put this back on.” He pulls out the cold pac and places it carefully over Jamie’s eye. “It’s black already. You want me to go kick Crosby’s ass for you, sweet pea?” Tyler asks, gently holding the pac in place and trailing kisses across the uninjured side of Jamie’s face.

“Pretty sure their plane has taken off by now. And also, by ‘me’, you mean —” Jamie lets his words deliberately trail off and Tyler stops and tries to look offended.

“Hey, I could take care of it if I wanted to. I would just prefer to get one of my boys to do it.”

Jamie grins at him, even though it hurts his face to do so. “Usually, I’m your boy.”

Tyler’s lips curve upward and he drops his head forward, so that his forehead touches Jamie’s. “You are my boy,” he says quietly. “Always.” Jamie’s head spins when Tyler’s lips brush against his. He’s pretty sure it’s love this time and not the sock in the head Sid gave him.

Jamie shivers under the intensity of those words, of the tenderness of Tyler’s touch, the press of Tyler’s cock against his hip. He _really_ wishes he weren’t so fucking tired right now and his face wasn’t throbbing from the inside. Jamie could think of a dozen better ways to spend time in Tyler’s bed besides passing out from exhaustion.

“So.You’ve had a busy 24 hours, Jameson. I hope all this has taught you a valuable lesson.” He can’t even keep a straight face. 

Jamie glares out of his one good eye and doesn’t answer. 

Tyler finally gives into a full smile but presses a gentle kiss to Jamie’s forehead to soothe the sting. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now, come on,” he says as he stands up. “I’m taking you to bed.”

Jamie grabs the cold pac and maneuvers his aching body to his feet with deliberation Once that’s accomplished, he hooks his arm around Tyler’s neck. “I love it when you say that,” he says against Tyler’s hair, full of the tender feeling that he’s way too manly to express out loud. At least, not right this minute. Tyler just laughs and guides Jamie down the hall toward the bedroom, supporting Jamie’s weight.  
While Tyler is in the bathroom, Jamie gets undressed and is about to get under the covers when he remembers the Instagram pic. He grabs his phone and opens the app He quickly finds Tyler’s pics and he finds the last one Tyler posted. It shows Jamie behind the wheel of his truck, looking a little disgruntled but beautifully enhanced by some kind of filter. But it’s Tyler’s caption that makes Jamie smile.

_Oh, captain, my captain_

He’s about to turn his phone off entirely when it dings with a message. It’s from Geno. 

_You ok? (((_

Jamie sends one back. _ur boy gave me a black eye_

_not my boy. Wait for plane back to Pittsburgh._

_he’s on the run G. Don’t give up now ; )_

He barely has time to see Tyler’s shadow before he leans over and snatches Jamie’s phone out of his hands.

Jamie slumps forward and sighs loudly. “Oh, no.”

“Jamie! Fucking hell!”

Jamie puts his elbows on his thighs, his head in his hands. This day is never going to end.

___

 

They don’t see Sid’s post game interview until they get to Frisco the next morning. All the boys crowd into the lounge and watch it together. They show the fight and the room fills with whistles and clapping. 

“I think Sid got the best of you, bro,” Jordie says with a smirk.

“Fuck you,” Jamie says with a laugh. Still, when they cut to Sid’s interview, it’s clear he has a cut on his chin so Jamie is glad to see the fight wasn’t as one sided as he remembered.

> _”So what happened there in the third with Jamie Benn?”_
> 
> It’s a competition, things get tense, especially as the clock is winding down. They took us out of our game a bit and it was a little frustrating. We’re both very competitive. It happens.
> 
> _”It’s a little unusual to see two captains go at it like that.”_
> 
> I don’t know if it’s all that unusual. It happens all the time when we play Philly.
> 
> _“It seemed like you guys had words before the game.”_
> 
> Nothing out of the ordinary. We’ve known each other for some time.
> 
> _“This is Pittsburgh’s sixth loss out of the last ten games. Is the frustration getting to you guys?”_
> 
> It’s always frustrating to lose games. It doesn’t matter whether it’s one game or six, it’s always frustrating. But we aren’t going to dwell on it. We’ve got Arizona on Saturday and three more weeks of the regular season before the playoffs. We have to concentrate on what’s ahead of us. And we will.
> 
> _”The loss of Malkin and Hornqvist has really dealt a blow to your offense. How do you counteract that?”_
> 
> _We all have to step up our play. Flower has been out there, keeping us in the game but we’re not producing at the other end of the ice. We’ll learn from this game, we’ll make adjustments and we’ll get better. As we get to the end of the season, we have to step up our play. We want to go into the playoffs from a position of strength so we have to do better._

__

 

________

 

“The Kid has a career in politics when he hangs up the skates,” Daddy says when the interview is over. “You heard it here first.”

Jamie claps his hands once and stands up. “Okay, boys. Time for practice.” 

“Wait a minute,” Spezz says. “Aren’t you going to tell us what the hell that was all about?”

“Huh?” Jamie says innocently and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Tyler cover his eyes with one hand, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

Jamie calmly meets the curious faces of his teammates. “You heard what Sid said. We’re both very competitive.” 

A chorus of groans and curses fill the air. “That’s such bullshit,” Spezz says.

“Bullshit,” Rous says in French. At least, Jamie thinks that’s what he says.

“Definitely bullshit,” Jordie chimes in with an evil grin.

“All right, slackers, you heard the captain,” Fidds says, taking a place next to Jamie. “You got your answer and we’ve got the fucking Blackhawks tomorrow so let’s go practice.” Jamie stands by as Fidds starts herding everyone out of the room, ignoring their complaints and demands for answers. When it’s Tyler’s turn through the door, Fidds gives him a suspicious stare and an extra rough shove.

“Thanks, Fidds,” Jamie says and he starts to walk out behind the others when Fidds throws his arm around Jamie’s shoulders. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome, but I’m your ‘A’, you can trust me. What really happened out there?”

Jamie laughs and this time, he gives the shove.

When it’s Jamie’s turn in front of the cameras, he parrots Sid’s explanation of their fight. Considering the shit storm that Sid will face with Geno, Jamie figures it’s the least he can do.

 

___

 

They get a 4-0 shut out against the Blackhawks — _the fucking Blackhawks_ — and everyone wants to go out afterward. Jamie can’t think of a good excuse to duck out but tonight, he doesn’t really want one. Tonight, he feels like celebrating.

They decide on Saint Ann, just a few blocks from the AAC. It’s busy but management finds them tables on the patio. Jamie buys the first round, calling out Lehts for the shutout and Tyler, Spezz, Patty and Horcs for their goals.

Jamie can’t sit in one place. He has to make the rounds — taking time to shoot the shit at every table, bragging on his guys, teasing the married guys for getting permission to come out. But during every lull in the conversation, his gaze seeks out Tyler. He’s not even conscious of doing it until he catches Tyler looking back. He gives Jamie a flirtatious wink and Jamie flushes hot down to his toes.

The married guys take off first, then Eaks and Curts and Ritchie split off and head toward the bar to try their luck. Eventually, it’s just Jamie, Tyler, Daddy and Jordie left on the patio. Jamie has trouble keeping up with the conversation because Tyler has his arm draped over the back of Jamie’s seat and he keeps stroking his thumb over the back of Jamie’s arm. 

Jamie represses a shiver and tries to keep track of the conversation. But he keeps looking at Tyler and Tyler keeps looking at him like he wants to eat him for dessert. Jamie half turns in his seat, so he can get an even better look at him. His boyfriend. _His_.

He watches Tyler take a drink, then run his tongue over his wet lips while he watches Jamie from beneath his lashes and in the middle of a restaurant in Uptown, Jamie wants to absolutely _ruin_ him. Tyler meets Jamie’s eyes and something about the hot glint in Tyler’s gaze tells Jamie that he is going to get a chance to do just that later tonight. 

To make sure he doesn’t suddenly lose his head and start kissing Tyler’s neck, Jamie turns his attention to whatever is going on with Jordie and Daddy. They keep stealing glances at each other and are obviously uncomfortable. Jamie’s just about to remark on their weirder-than-normal behavior when Jordie clears his throat.

“So. Listen.” Jordie almost chokes on the words and then, he doesn’t say anything more, even after he gets a elbow in his side from Daddy.

“Okay. We’re listening,” Tyler says. “Jamie? You listening?”

“I’m listening but I don’t hear anything. Can you hear me?”

“Yes. Can you hear me?”

“All right, shut it, you morons,” Daddy says, adding an impatient look at Jordie. “I can’t believe I’m the one telling your brother.”

Jordie gives Daddy the softest, sweetest smile. Jamie is sure he has never seen him smile at anyone like that. “I’ll tell _your_ brother.”

Daddy, a known giver of sweet smiles, reciprocates. “Oh. Okay. That’s fair, I guess.” Then they both turn back to Jamie and Tyler. “So, anyway. After this season, I’m moving in with Jordie. We’re gonna be — together.”

Jamie starts to smile when Tyler’s knee nudges his beneath the table. “Yeah? Well, good on you guys. Keeping those expenses low. Good idea.”

Jordie scowls and Daddy drops his head into his hands.

Jamie nods. “He’s not a bad roommate, Daddy. You just have to remind him to pick up his dirty underwear off the floor.”

“You know, you two are hilarious,” Jordie says with a glare. “You’re wasting your time with this hockey thing. I think you should take your act on the road.”

Tyler lets loose with his goofy laugh but Jamie can’t help but feel a little warm and fuzzy at the news. Jordie has been the caretaker in the family, Jamie’s caretaker specifically, for so long. He likes the thought that someone will be there to look after Jordie, especially someone as good at it as Daddy.

“It’s about time,” is all that Jamie can say without sounding suspiciously emotional. Daddy and Jordie grin at each other and Tyler puts his arm around Jamie’s shoulder and Jamie leans into him, wondering how they all got so lucky.

 

_____________

 

Epilogue

 

“Hey, listen,” Jamie says, pushing his empty plate aside, “I haven’t wanted to bring this up.” 

Tyler gets a second helping of last night’s leftovers then comes over to Jamie. He puts his hand on Jamie’s shoulder, pressing a lingering kiss underneath his ear before he sits down beside him at the island. 

“Especially when you keep doing stuff like that,” Jamie continues with a bit of a shiver. “But we should probably discuss it.“

“Lay it on me, Jameson,” Tyler says, snagging a forkful of Jordie’s eggplant lasagna. 

Jamie groans a little, hoping to convey some reluctance. It wouldn’t do for him to appear too eager if this is going to work properly.

Tyler grins at him and he looks so happy and content that Jamie has to stare for a while. “Come on,” Tyler says teasingly. “We’re a couple now. We gotta talk this shit out. What’s on your mind, sweet pea?”

Jamie gets comfortable in his chair because he wants to be sure to get a good view of this. “Well, it’s just that — I was wondering when I could expect my money.”

Tyler keeps eating. “What money?”

Jamie can barely contain his glee. “The 500 bucks you owe me. From the bet you lost.”

Tyler chokes and his fork clatters against the granite when he drops it. “Oh, no, you didn’t.”

He gives Tyler the most innocent look he’s got in his repertoire. “What?”

Tyler roughly pushes his plate away so he can turn toward Jamie. “Were you not there when I had to pull a seven foot tall Russian off you?” 

It’s still a bit of a sore subject, that night, but they’ve mostly learned to joke about it. Mostly. “Yeah, but that wasn’t the bet,” Jamie reminds him. ”You bet that me and Sid —“

“You and Sid, you and Malkin, same difference,” Tyler comes back, his dark eyes hot with what Jamie hopes is playful annoyance. “Malkin was Crosby’s rep and I ain’t paying.”

Jamie pretends to shrug it off and he gets up and carries his plate to the sink, trying to keep a straight face. “Okay, then. Whatever,” Jamie says breezily. “Like you said, we’re a couple now and if you don’t want to pay off your gambling debts, then —“

“Okay. That’s it.” The legs of Tyler’s chair scrapes against the tile. “Get your fine ass to the bedroom.”

“But I have to wash these dishes.”

Tyler stands up. “Uh-uh. Let’s go. Move it.”

It’s not the kind of order that Jamie is ever going to refuse. And once they’re there and Jamie is on his back with Tyler straddling him, he watches Tyler pull his shirt off over his head and Jamie thinks, _oh, fuck, yeah._

Tyler leans down to kiss Jamie, slow and hot, while he reaches into Jamie’s sweat pants, wrapping his warm hand around the hot length of Jamie’s dick. Jamie groans a little and pushes his hips up into Tyler’s grip, reaching out for Tyler’s ass and squeezing the tight bundle of muscle.

Then, suddenly, Tyler’s hand slips out and he sits up. “New bet,” Tyler says, his wet lips curved in a wicked smile. “Double or nothing.”

“Tyler,” Jamie pants, “what the hell?”

Bracing himself over Jamie with one hand on the mattress, Tyler says, “I bet I can make you come in less than two minutes.”

Jamie lets his head fall back against the pillow. “Oh, my God. Is this really my life?”

Tyler just laughs at him. “Hey, you started this, bringing up fucking Malkin. Don’t complain, sweet pea.”

 _Well_ , Jamie thinks, _he does have a point._ “Don’t call me sweet pea,” he says roughly, pressing his palm over the front of Tyler’s shorts and giving his erection a squeeze. 

“You got it, babe,”Tyler whispers hoarsely and okay, now, Jamie is in trouble. Tyler hovers over him, their lips almost touching and his voice drops to the low pitched murmur that always puts Jamie’s dick at attention. 

“God, just look at you,” Tyler says, barely rocking his hips on Jamie’s. “You’re so fucking hot. Do you feel how hard I am already? How long do you think I’m gonna last here?” Tyler licks the tip of his thumb and rubs it over Jamie’s nipple and Jamie nearly springs off the bed.

“Fuck, okay, yes, double or nothing.”

Tyler glances over at the digital clock on the bedside table. “All righty, then,” he says with a look of determination as he shimmies down Jamie’s body, trailing kisses down the middle of Jamie’s chest to his stomach and Jamie is shaking way before Tyler even gets to the good stuff. “1:38. Here we go.”

Jamie relaxes and when Tyler’s mouth closes around his dick, he cups the back of Tyler’s head, so full of contentment and happiness and he thinks, _oh, my God, is this really my life?_

Jamie smiles. Yeah. It really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Soon -- Tale of Two (NHL) Cities (Pittsburgh Edition)


End file.
